Vampire In Bayville
by DementedTwin
Summary: Recruiting a new mutant was never quite so interesting, until they met Cheryl...
1. Getting Caught

Greetings one and all! Yes I know, I hate as well, but hey what are ya gonna do? A few warnings before we get along with the story. This story is rated M for a REASON, it will contain graphic violence and other... scenes. Not for the faint of heart. We would also like to take this time to tell you that we are fans of the original X-Men, so we did some...tweaking is a nice word for it.** So the characters will not be the exact same as you have watched them to be. **Oh, and yes this is a Romance, and pairs have already been picked in advance. Don't like, don't read. Now the other warnings. We don't own Marvel...yet...the first country has been converted. But we do own our character Cheryl Davis. We can make her do whatever we want!... But we digress. This is a collaboration between two college students, so our lives, and therefore the updates, revolve around school. We both hope that you like the story, we had fun writing and that's all that really matters, right? --The Demented Twins

**Chapter 1 **

Since the day she was born, Cheryl Davis knew she loved the ocean. The beach was her blanket and soul, the ocean her path and heart. She surfed from the age of 5, but traveled the world since the day she could walk with her Big Uncle Danny. Her life was fantastic as it was. But some things couldn't stay the same. She was thirteen when she got thrown into the coral in Australia. Her thigh was cut badly, the blood pouring out, beginning to mix into the water. It was about shark season out there and she knew she was too far away to swim back without causing damage. The wound really began to burn from the salt. She needed to stop bleeding... stop bleeding... _stop bleeding…_

The burn stopped as the gash clotted within seconds. The water had turned a pinkish color so she swam back to shore. She was slightly lightheaded, thankful, but freaking out. It was from that day that her brown hair held a strawberry hint and her eyes turned burgundy…

Five Years Later…

"Dude! Cheryl! Come catch some waves!" His shout could hardly carry over the waves. Her eye twitched from frustration. She _hated_ that word, "Dude". The last time she checked, she was certain she was a girl. Cheryl couldn't quite remember his name, just recognized his scent and decided that his blood was pretty good. It just tasted like water. For five years now she's had to feed off of the blood of everyone else around her. She tried animal blood, but found it was disgusting. So, she just drank the blood surfers spilled when they got thrashed. It was a good deal. She stopped their bleeding and took what was left in the water. The Camelbak strapped onto her back was filled with different types, all from her favorite people, well those that were tasty. From behind her, the ocean roared to life as it drew back and gained height. She caught it and flew. The sea flowing around her, nothing could have destroyed this moment. Except for the very strong and present scent of blood, causing her to lose her footing and wipeout. When she finally emerged, she swam back to shore, following the scent. It was one of the buddy surfers, Johnny. He crashed into the rocks, and banged himself up pretty bad. He was close to the shore when she came about.

"CALL AN AMBULENCE!" She swam to where he was, her special board, her baby, following by the line attached to her ankle. He was bleeding profusely already and if he moved anymore, he could permanently damage himself. But he can't stay in the water, she thought. Which would aggravate the wounds more. Some of the other buddy surfers went over to see the commotion.

"We need to get him out of the water!" They looked a bit shaken from all that red stuff coming out of him.

"But-"

"No buts!" They didn't move, but stared at the mangled guy in front of them.

"CALL THE FUCKING AMBULENCE ALREADY!" She tried as carefully as she could to drag him onto her board. He wasn't totally unconscious, he grunted from the pain. Was that a good thing? She started toward the shore and noticed that only a small piece of his board was left dragging behind on his ankle. He's not going to be too happy about that, she thought. The others were waiting on the shore.

"Help me get him out of the water! NOW!" They jumped to attention and rushed to help. They tried their best to be gentle, but no one's perfect. Johnny was laid out on a towel, cut up and banged beyond belief. She grabbed one of the towels near her and pressed it to the main wound over his thigh.

"Hey, do crowd control or something." She stripped off the Camelbak and opened it. She put the tip of the towel at the opening and began filtering blood out, working up the red bone marrow to make more blood, and keep it circulating. Needless to say, she was working as hard as she could. She kept this up until the ambulance finally arrived. The EMTs came and removed her hand from him.

"We've got him now miss." She kept hold of the towel, soaked with blood. As they wheeled Johnny into the ambulance, one of the EMT's, young but ragged, turned to her and smiled.

"You probably saved his life, miss. You should probably get checked out yourself. You're eyes are red." She smiled and shrugged.

"Oh I guess I forgot to take the contacts out. They're all the rage these days." He smiled again and nodded his acknowledgement. Cheryl stayed planted in the sand until the siren disappeared into the distance. The crowd of people diffused as she picked up her camelbak, her surf board, and the towel and headed for the showers. Inside the bathroom, she looked at her now fire-engine-red iris's.

"Oh Damn. I'm gonna be feeling this for awhile." She looked down at the bloody towel, her eyes glittering. She couldn't gorge here but a snack wouldn't hurt. Her hand hovered over the blood. Slowly, it began to separate from the fibers into a nice good sized blob. She pursed her lips to it and slurped it up. After it was gone, she checked her eyes again. They were brick-red now, but still red. She headed to the lockers and got her backpack. She retrieved her keys and sunglasses, for good measure. I don't think they need to see these, she thought. She headed out from the surf, clean, worn out, and hungry. After walking past paid parking lots and cars trying to find the closest spot, she turned to the beach houses. A buddy of her late uncle's, who has never owned a car a day in his life, let her park her beautiful Mellony. Mellony was her baby, her pride and joy, and Cheryl would never dream of parking her near the beach. She smiled as she looked over the beautiful jeep. The paint job was her eighteenth birthday present from her boss. It was a perfect beach scene. The waves rolling up on the hood while the shore line came along the sides to the sandy beach with a small landscape of the city in the background on the trunk. Oh yes, she was a work of art.

Cheryl left the customary ten at his backdoor and left. Taking the quickest way she could back home, she was wiped and drained. As usual, she parked on the side of the house, not in front. Didn't want to upset the parental units. About to enter her senior year of high school, almost top of her class, and her parents don't even look her way. She unlocked the door, and stepped in before slamming it behind her and sliding in the deadbolt. Father was a workaholic and her mother worked on every committee she could get her claws on. So of course they weren't home. The silence of the house disturbed her, like it always did. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop, it just racked her nerves. She walked down the hallway to the end, where her room was. There was an iron framed twin-bed in the corner, a small desk under the window with a swivel chair neatly placed underneath it. School textbooks lined her bookshelves along with the Classics of Literature. Old clothes hung in the closet, never seen again and the walls were covered with surfing memorabilia. She didn't mind any of it at the moment, as she dropped her pack and crashed face first onto her bed, asleep before she even felt the pillow.

At the Institute for the Gifted Youth, Cheryl Davis's save did not go unnoticed. Professor Xavier sat at Cerebro looking at the new mutant detected on the screen when Storm came up behind him.

"Found a new one?" He nodded.

"Yes, she's already gained some control, as far as Cerebro can tell." She met his eyes with a very common as of late question.

"But who will be going?" That night at dinner, Charles called the attention of the table.

"Cerebro has just discovered a new mutant today. Her name is Cheryl Davis, just around your age. Storm and I will be gone tomorrow to see her, so I'll put Hank in charge." The table erupted with small cheer at the thought of another student coming. The dinner went on with the routine of every night, with the event of some dish being flung or broken, Bobby trying to show off with the rest of the boys as well as irritating the girls. At the end of the evening, Scott approached the Professor.

"Say, Professor, where exactly does she live?" Charles smiled as he exited to bed.

"Oh I forgot. Long Beach, California. Good night everyone." He heard the very audible outrage of the students and smiled even broader. The next morning, Storm and the Professor entered the hanger. The Blackbird was prepped and ready for take off. Storm sighed before boarding.

"Is anything wrong, Storm?"

"No, but something tells me that this isn't going to be a normal trip." He smiled and wheeled on. He took his place next to Storm at the controls and left without a hitch. They were about a half an hour into the air when Charles turned to the back of the Blackbird.

"Alright Kurt, you can come out now, we're about to land." In a puff of smoke, Kurt teleported next to him with a guilty expression.

"Sorry Professor. But I had to tag along. It's Long Beach! I've heard so much about it and all..." Charles chuckled.

"Alright. Besides, we could use you as a demonstration. To show her that the Institute is a place of acceptance." Storm started flipping switches and descending.

"We're here." The house was in the middle of cul-de-sac, a small house in suburbia. They landed the Blackbird in a small park about a block away. Charles turned to Kurt before leaving.

"Stay in here for now, Kurt. We'll be back shortly." He nodded reluctantly as they walked down to the small house.

Cheryl was aware it was day, but didn't care. She was still wiped out from the day before. Maybe I should drink something, she thought. She was about to grab hold of the camelbak when the doorbell rang. Who could be visiting at this hour. She heard her mother's footsteps moving fast for the door. What if it was someone asking about yesterday? She really didn't need her parents finding out about her abilities or any of the activities she involved herself in. She disregarded the camelbak and opened the bedroom door. Down the hallway, she saw her mother standing in front of an elder looking man in a wheelchair and a beautiful black woman.

"Hello, I am Professor Charles Xavier and this is my associate, Ororo Munroe. We've come to speak with Cheryl Davis." Cheryl's eyes widened.

"Crap."


	2. New Flavors

**Chapter 2**

Three pairs of eyes turned to her. She tried to think as quickly as possible, slipping on a pair of sunglasses and flip-flops. She walked out of the room with a jaunty smile playing on her lips. I know shit is about to hit the fan, she thought. Mrs. Davis turned back to the pair at her front door.

"What's she done now?" Her step faltered. Please don't tell her, please don't tell her, the words running through her head at top speed. Charles narrowed his eyes in thought.

"We would just like to have a word with her, if you wouldn't mind." Mrs. Davis looked back at her daughter then shrugged.

"Just keep it down, I have things that need to be done by tonight." She turned on her heel and went into the study to work on more committee projects. Cheryl stood up straight and let out a shaken laugh.

"Um alright, would anyone like anything to drink?" She walked past them to the family room. Charles and Storm followed.

"No thank you," said Charles. "But we would like to talk to you, about your certain abilities." Cheryl stood rigid and turned to them. They look nice, she thought. Giving a heavy sigh, she took a seat across from them.

"Um, if you're talking about my surfing, then thank you, I think." The Professor chuckled.

"No, I was speaking about the abilities you used yesterday, to save that young man's life." She stopped for a few seconds, stunned.

"Wait…how would you know about that?"

_I can read your thoughts, Cheryl._ She jumped to her feet.

"Oh fuck! Crap! Shit! What?!? Davy Jones eating my surfboard! God Damn it!" Storm mouthed the phrase to the Professor, as if hoping he would know what it meant. Cheryl stopped in her rant. "Oops. Pardon the words but…what?!?" Storm leaned forward.

"We mean you no harm. We would just like to open up an option for you." Her eyes perked up.

"Really? Like what?" Storm look a bit puzzled.

"First, we would like to assess your power if you wouldn't mind." Cheryl stopped.

"Um…are you sure you wanna see that?" The two guests looked at each other before encouraging her on. She shrugged her shoulders and pulled out a sewing needle. She pricked her finger and pointed right between them. Three high pressured spurts of blood shot out and hit the wall with a spatter. The two were stunned at the oddity of such a thing. Storm raised a hand to her cheek where a light mist seemed to be. Soon, the mark was closed and done. The Professor finally responded.

"You can pressurize blood?" She nodded.

"Yup, but that's not all." She extended her hand to the blood as it detached from the wall, the carpet, even

Storm's cheek. It formed a nice round ball, floating before them.

"In-interesting," replied Storm.

"Yeah, I can regenerate, and clean all impurities inside of me." The possibilities intrigued Charles.

"Could you also control other's people blood?"

"Yeah."

"Would you show us?" She cocked her head to the side.

"What?"

"Could you show us regenerating blood on others." She took her seat again.

"Okay, you have an extra pint of blood now." Storm felt her skin.

"I don't feel any different." Cheryl took the needle out again.

"Here." She went to the Storm and pricked the woman's forearm. With her other hand, she drew out a pint of blood. Storm flexed her hand.

"It feels a little numb-" She stopped as she looked at the girl. Her blood, her own blood, was now formed into a glass with a straw, with the girl drinking it. She tossed the little ball of her own blood into the glass but decided differently. A few more sips and she put her blood back in. When the drink was gone, she stopped as if to contemplate. Then she looked up with a shining smile.

"Peanut butter!"

"Wha-what?" Storm seemed to have gone pale.

"Your blood," she responded. "That's what it taste like. I thought you smelled different."

"Smelled?" Charles asked in a calm voice. The girl shrugged it off.

"Yeah, everyone has a different smell, just most smell like tap water." The two nodded, not quite understanding. Charles coughed.

"Well, if you come back with us to the institute, you'll be able to use your powers freely, and without fear of people judging you by them. This is the reason why we came all the way here, to ask you to attend with the others like you." She stilled.

"There'll be other people like her," she asked as she pointed to Storm.

"Yes." Her smile broadened as she jumped up and started doing a dance.

"Yay! No more water!" She kept dancing, moving of the thighs, the shaking of the butt, hands moving in circles, and fingers jabbing out into the air. The two looked a bit surprised when she stopped in midmotion as the Proffessor added, "You just have to get permission from your parents." She put up her index finger.

"Wait here please," and walked to the study where her mom kept herself prisoner. She made sure to knock and wait for an answer, before opening the door herself.

"Hey mother? I'm going to be gone for an…indefinite amount of time. I'll keep up with my schooling." Mrs. Davis kept her eyes down on the project occupying her brain.

"Alright, I'll tell your father. Have fun." She walked back to the guests.

"Okay, it's cool." The Professor and Storm looked at her with compassion.

"How long do you need to get packed?" Charles asked. She looked back at her room before answering.

"Give me five." They agreed and exited the house. Cheryl ran to her room. She grabbed the camelbak and threw it into her backpack along with the pictures of her and her uncle. She looked around and glanced at her bookshelf, then proceeded to grab a dufflebag from her closet and began throwing sections of her book collection into it. She hefted it onto her shoulder with her other pack and exited the house. Storm looked at the girl and nodded. She packs light, she thought.

"Oh, and I'm taking Mellony," Cheryl stated. Storm put on a smile.

"Oh, does your cat have all her shots?" The girl wrinkled her brow.

"Cat? No."

"Dog?"

"No." The Professor skimmed her mind.

"Your jeep?"

"Yes, my lovely Mellony. Of course, she wouldn't need shots, but she's up to date. Smog check and all." The Professor just nodded his approval. She squeeked with joy and ran to her beloved Jeep, Mel. A few minutes later, and a few buttons on her keychain, she had the car ready to go.

"Jump in." Charles wheeled himself over to the seat, where he lifted himself in. Storm struggled to put the chair in the back with the three dufflebags, backpack, surfboard, snowboard, and other miscellaneous things. Cheryl asked where she was supposed to go which they answered with directions to the park. She shrugged and followed along. When they arrived at the Blackbird, she stared in awe.

"You have a jet…sweet." Charles smiled as she spoke the last word barely above a whisper. There was a poof of smoke before Kurt popped up.

"Professor! Professor! Is zis her?"

"Yes. Cheryl Davis meet Kurt Wagner, a student at the institute. Kurt, this is Cheryl, she'll be coming with us back to the institute." His smile broadened.

"Oh! Vantastic. You're going to love it there. They accepted me, and I'm the blue fuzzy one!" She looked him up and down.

"You don't look so fuzzy…or blue." He stopped and looked at his hands.

"Hold on a minute." He clicked off the image inducer, reveling pointy tail and all. She was shocked for a second before walking forward and feeling the pointy ears.

"Cool." She backed up Mel into the Blackbird and joined the rest in the cockpit. Kurt turned to her.

"Uh…so, vhat's your power?" She lifted up her sunglasses, revealing her eyes to be a dark crimson.

"It's more of show rather than a tell. I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise." He sank back to the corner of his seat. The time passed and they made small talk. While Kurt was clinging to the arms of his chair, she giggled and joked with him, unaffected by the high speeds. Finally, the Professor turned to them.

"We've arrived, and may I welcome you to the Institute for the Gifted Youth." She jumped up before he could finish his sentence and ran to the cargo area.

"Hey, where do I park?" Charles looked at Kurt.

"Would you show her to the garage?" He didn't have to think twice before teleporting to the passenger side of the vehicle and buckling himself in. Cheryl nodded in approval.

"You ready?" He winked.

"Let's rock!" She turned on the engine. The lights turned on and "I Wish I Had An Angel" by Nightwish blared out of the speakers. The cargo area opened. Waiting in the hanger, the X-Men were anxious about who would come to join them soon. The guys hoped for a really hot girl, the girls hoped for a gal pal. Beast hoped for someone with an intelligent mind. What they didn't expect was the cargo hatch to open up to a jeep blaring drums and guitar. The jeep reved up then bolted down the ramp. The group scattered, not wanting to get run over. When the jeep came to a halt before them, the people looked at the front seats. Kurt was whooping and smiling at the girl in the driver's seat. She wore a baggy light blue shirt with long boy shorts. Her strawberry blonde hair, still crunchy from salt water, was pulled back into a ponytail, her red eyes glitter in the fluorescent lighting. She opened her mouth but nothing could be heard over the beat of the music. They signaled her to turn down the volume. She turned the knob and repeated what she said.

"Hi, where do I park?" The group looked at her, the tan, the salt water hair, the surf scene on the jeep, and the surf board in the back. A collective sigh moved through them, thinking of Long Beach. Kurt beamed.

"Oh yeah, take zat corridor, over there."

"Alright!" She waved at them as she drove off. Jean stared after them.

"That's the first time anyone's brought their own car." The Professor came around to them with a smirk.

"She wouldn't leave without it." Down in the garage, Cheryl was able to park Mel perfectly with ease. Kurt whistled. She chuckled.

"This is nothing compared to the things I've had to go through back in Brazil." She reached over into the glove compartment and retrieved a small spray bottle and cloth. She began cleaning the hood as Kitty and Sam raced in to greet the new arrival.

"Wow, great paintjob!" said Sam and reached for the lovely Mellony. Cheryl batted his hand away.  
"No touchy. I've just cleaned her spots." She looked past them to see one of the most awe inspiring motorcycles in her life. It was supped up beyond measure, just like her Mellony. She didn't even notice that she whisked right past them and began murmuring to herself over the bike. Kitty loomed over her shoulder.

"That's Logan's bike." She looked back at the perky girl.

"Logan?"

"Yeah. He'd probably kill you if you touched it though." Cheryl raised an eyebrow.

"Does it look like I'm touching it? I wouldn't touch this piece of artwork without permission. What do you take me for, uncivilized." Kitty raised her hands in mock surrender.

"Sorry, just saying." She replied with a laid back smile.

"No worries. I get the idea. So, where do I head from here?" The perky one grabbed her arm and started leading her back inside.

"Come on, you need to meet everyone else." Cheryl stopped and turned back to Sam and Kurt before going inside.

"If anything happens to her, I'll drain you to four pints of blood." They sort of looked at each other, as the girls went to the foyer. The rest of the students assembled and started crowding around, Kurt and Sam joined in. Kitty let out a giggle.

"So, what's your power?" Cheryl looked at them and pulled out her sewing needle.

"Are you sure you wanna know?" They nodded, so she shrugged and poked Kitty.

"Ow! What the-" The words died in her mouth as her blood began to flow out like a deep red thread, forming into a ball in mid air. It formed into a tall glass with a straw as the new girl put her hand on it and brought it to her lips, and drank. Time seemed to stop while she drank Kitty's blood. When she was done, her eyes had turned darker, but not burgandy.

"Lemonade! A little too sweet, but still really good." The crowd kind of twitched.

"So," said Kurt. "you're like a vampire?" She lost most of her smile.

"Do you see my tan? I worked hard on this tan, man." Most of the group snickered as she leaned forward to sniff Kitty.

"Yeah I thought you smelled different."

"What are you talking about?" She touched the side of her nose.

"Normal people smell like water. You smell like lemons, on a summer breeze." She took a deep breath. "Smells nice." Kurt waved up his hand.

"What do I smell like?"

"You? You smell like toffee. Homemade toffee, made at Christmas. I want peanut butter." Storm, who's standing on the corner of the room, twitched but could help but smile. Kitty rubbed her arm.

"Usually people aren't too open with powers like yours."

"So?" she replied "I was promised freedom of expression. I'm going to take it for all it's worth." Storm and the Professor took her up to her room. She recruited Scott, who smelled of something spicy, and Roberto, who smelled a little too rare, to carry up her other bags. She handled her boards, no one else. When they reached the room, her eyes widened.

"Wow, it's so…white." The boys dropped off the bags and headed down for dinner. As Charles was about to follow, he looked back at his new student.

"Would you be joining us for dinner? You do look tired." She started unloading the duffle bags.

"No thanks, not hungry yet. Time change and all. Actually I need to make some calls." He nodded as she shut the door. About half way down the stairs, his eyebrows drew together.

"What's the matter," Storm asks. Charles just smiled and chuckled to himself. "Nothing. It just seems that we will be having a very interesting time with our new student."

Cheryl got up early the next morning, packed up Mel, and drove to the coast. That morning as she tried to surf, she realized that it was really fucking cold up north. The other surfers in their wetsuits laughed at the skinny tanned girl in her swimming trunks and bikini top, to which she only glared back. At around eight o'clock in the morning, she stomps into the kitchen, shivering to the bone. Bobby took a seat at the small breakfast table drinking orange juice, listening to her ramble under her breath about the cold.

"What's cold," he asked. She looked at him like he lost a few screws.

"The water! It's fucking cold!" He smirked and shrugged.

"So?" She walked over to him, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Okay, what do you do then?" He pointed a finger at her soaked shirt, as it began to freeze.

"Fuck!" She stormed back up to her room, leaving Bobby to giggle in his juice. Some of the other occupants were woken up by loud cursing, but quickly went back to sleep. She jumped in the shower really fast, and dressed her self in an oversized purple shirt with her tan boy shorts. She picked up her cellphone and dialed a familiar number. She knew it was too early for the shop to be opened, that's why she loved the answering machine.

"Hey, boss-man, yeah it's Cheryl. Listen, I've moved to the east coast, and I don't know when I'll be back. Just to let you know. Oh and could you send me a wetsuit, my size and everything. I need one that can handle really cold water. I sent you all the information. Alright, I'll talk to you later. Ciao." For the rest of the day, she fixed her things, made phone calls, and set up whatever arrangements she needed. The next morning, Cheryl skipped surfing, causing her to grumble in her room. The doorbell rang. Jean opened the door to UPS guy with a package for Cheryl Davis. She signed for it and took it upstairs. She stopped at the doorway, watching the girl grumble.

"Are you okay," she asked. She got a low reply. Something about not going boarding. "You got a package." Her eyes immediately brightened as she jumped from the bed and grabbed the parcel. She set it down carefully then gave Jean a proper hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She let go of the now laughing red head.

"Sure, no problem." She took her leave and straightened her clothes. Just think, she thought. What would happen if I gave her a present? Cheryl opened it up. The wetsuit was black and thick. It was one of the newest products from her sponsor, complete with gloves and booties. She decided to try it on and see how it fit. Logan entered the house from the garage with one question on his mind. Who's jeep was that? He was never one to like four wheelers, but damn. The paint job alone was impressive. Every last detail was state of the art, down to clearly custom made locks on the doors. He followed the new scent up to the bedrooms. She had a curious scent, one of an old battlefield overgrown with wild flowers. The sweet scent of earth prevailing over the hint of the bloody past. He stopped at an open door. Inside, was a girl, no, he corrected himself, teenager, stretching out in a black wetsuit on the floor. He couldn't help but look her over. She wasn't that endowed, but damn did she have a body for her age.

"And you are?" Cheryl craned her head back to look at him. The guy looked about in his early twenties, blue black hair wild but managed. He seemed to have an animal feeling to him. And his scent she couldn't quite figure out, just that he smelled great. She rose to her feet and did a mock salute.

"Hi, I'm Cheryl Davis. You must be Logan." He smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"How do you figure that?" She smiled in return.

"Cause you're the only one I haven't seen yet." He nodded his approval. In an all too quick motion, she jumped in the air.

"So you're the one who owns that phenomenal bike! Where'd you get your upgrades?" He smiled, a rare action if she only knew.

"A friend." She sunk down and pouted.

"So, what's your power?" He drew up his fist and unsheathed the claws. Her eyes shone as the smell of blood hit her nose and extended her hand. His blood flowed along the claw to a large bubble at the tip. Logan just stared as the glob formed and flew to her. She took it and slurped it up. As soon as it was gone, she squealed.

"Tastes good!" She soon began to mutter to herself under her breath, the words of "tastes so good", "not quite know what it is", and "oh my God" were repeated until she finally lunged herself at him and latched on for a hug. Logan, who has never been attacked by a student, stood there stuttering fearing he didn't draw his claws back in time.

"Hey, did I just-"

"You just taste so good! It's almost orgasmic!" When she finally realized what she was doing she detached herself and grinned broadly. There was a small scratch on her cheek from his claws.

"Sorry, you guys aren't used to being open. I'll have to remember that." At that moment, Storm noticed that Logan was talking with the new student.

"I see you've met our new student." He turned to her with a flat look.

"Yeah, no kidding. So what, you're like a vampire?" She heaved a great sigh.

"What is it with everyone saying that!?! Do you see the tan?" A smirk grew on his stubled face.

"No, not really." The smirk grew to a grin, causing her to blush. Storm intersected between the two.

"I just came by to tell you that you're training will start the day after tomorrow. We'll meet here to get you started." She nodded with a smile.

"Sure." Logan turned and started walking down the hall, but not before looking back at her and flashing a grin. The blush deepened before she in turn closed her door. He chuckled to himself all the way back to his bike. Along the way, everyone wondered if he was on his way to horribly kill someone. Later that evening, Cheryl approached the Professor.

"Um, may I speak to you, Charles." He didn't know how to take it that a student was calling him by his first name, but for now he believed it to be fine.

"Yes, how may I help you, Cheryl." She smiled.

"I wanted to talk to you about decorating my room."


	3. Death of White

**Chapter 3**

Logan looked up from his paper and coffee to find a very happy Cheryl walk into the kitchen. He couldn't help but look her over again. Her hair was starting to dry with salt forming on the tips, her eyes were crimson red unlike the burgundy they were the night before. She wore baggy clothing, which he was still able to see the swimsuit soaking threw it. In her hands were several shopping bags. He smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"So, where'd you go this morning?" She smiled back.

"Surfing. You don't expect me to give it up do you?" He cracked his newspaper and hid behind it.

"Where did you live? Before coming here?" She laid the bags on the table before unslinging the camelbak off of her.

"All over. How about you?"

"I've been a few places." He looked over at her again. She was sipping from the camelbak, her eyes glittering at him.

"I want some more," she said suddenly.

"More what?" Her brow drew together.

"Your blood, duh." It wasn't until a few moments did he smirk and sip his coffee.  
"I'm on reserve." She sipped again from the camelbak.

"Reserved?" He let the paper drop.

"I usually don't let people suck my blood. So unless you're dying, don't look at me like your next meal."

"Oh…" Her head was hung down, her eyes drooping.

"Don't give me that look! It won't work on me." The sad face turned to a glare.

"Hmph!" She stood up, grabbed her bags and stomped off. Logan smiled thinking she looked cute when she's frustrated. He shook his head, ridding his mind of the thought. Upstairs, Cheryl quickly ran into the room and dropped the bags onto the bed. She searched through one of the bigger ones, from an home improvement store in town. Out came several rather large sheets of plastic. She proceeded to take out an exacto knife and cut out the parameters of the windows. She looked up at the top of the window and wondered how she was going to get up there when Kurt teleported next to her.

"Vat are you doing?" She jumped back.

"Oh hey! I was just going to decorate my room." She looked at his three fingered hands and grinned.

"Wanna help?"

"Are you kidding? Of course!" They moved her furniture out into the hall, making sure there was some room to walk by. They covered the floor, windows, and trimming with plastic and painter's tape.

"Alright, go change and meet me back here." He teleported out. She took a quick rinse, to get all the salt and sand off of her before dressing in brand new, pure white baggy shirt and boy shorts. Kurt came back, dressed in a torn shirt and cargo pants, and looked at her, his eyebrow raised.

"Vhy are you dressed in all vhite? And you still have a tag attached to it." She ripped off the tag and smiled broadly as she proceeded to take out twenty four small cans of paint and pop them open.

"Vat are you going to do?" She stirred them with sticks and looked at him.

"This." She takes up two of the sticks and flings the paint on the walls. Kurt looked at her with disbelief.

"Does the Professor know about this."

"He approved!" They start flinging paint all over the place, leaving no corner unturned.

"Okay, I want pi over two, and two pi." He looked at her like she grew three heads in the middle of her forehead.

"The whole room." He nodded. "Oh and could you get some paint on your feet and walk on the walls?" Kitty's room was next door. She started to hear the banging when she decide to peek over. She stepped outside of the door and saw the furniture.

"What the?" She opened the door to see paint flying in every direction.

"What's going on?" They stopped and looked at her.

"Wanna join in?" She looked at the walls as her eyes lit up.

"Hell yeah!"

"Go get changed!" Kitty went and changed into old gym clothes before popping back over and started flinging paint everywhere. About ten minutes later, Gambit, Iceman, and Cannonball noticed that there was a massive amount of furniture blocking the hallway.

"What the hell?" They heard laughing from the room next to them. Gambit reached for the door.

"Now, I wonder what's goin' on in here." He opened the door. A slash of paint flew at them hitting all three in the face. Cheryl, Kitty, and Kurt looked at them for a second before bursting into laughter. The boys wiped off their faces and looked at the scene around them.

"What are you doing?" Cheryl waved.

"Hi, I'm new and…the room was boring. Wanna join?" Gambit looked at the two next to him.

"I don't know about you two, but I'll be right back." Cheryl laughed again as they exited.

"Sweet!" The boys came back and joined in. Kurt went around the top edge with the red and dripped it down the walls. It looked strangely like blood. She approved. Gambit gave a smirk as he picked up one of the near empty cans.

"Watch 'dis," he said as he charged it up. It exploded, a shower of paint going in every direction. She looked down at her clothes and decided that they were coming along nicely. Bobby pointed behind her.

"Hey look at that." The spray of paint left behind a silloquet of everyone in the room.

"Sweet!" She grabbed another near empty can and shoved it at him.

"Do this one next!" He took the paint and cracked a charming grin.

"Haven't met anyone like you before, _Cher._" She thought about it.

"I hope not, it would be kind of weird if there was another me." The painting went on and on and on, for hours. Hand prints, foot prints, body prints, tail prints, splats, mists, strokes, it was a multicolor candyland. At one point, Kitty walked through the wall, leaving all the paint that was on her on the wall. Cheryl looked at it with a critical eye.

"It's too clean," she exclaimed before she smeared it with her hands. Kitty went back and pouted.

"You killed my image."

"I'm sorry." Sam was about to fly around with paint when Bobby yelled at him.

"Better not knock down a wall, Cannonball." Cheryl turned to him immediately.

"You knock down a wall, I'll drain you to four pints of blood." Kurt was walking on the ceiling with painted feet.

"I've been meaning to ask you. Vat does that mean?" She splattered more paint on the ceiling next to him.

"It's the minimal amount of blood an average person needs in their circulatory system. Any less and you'd die." His spine stiffened.

"Oh…" She flicked a splatter of red on his face.

"Looks nice."

"Hey!" By the time the paint was gone, they exited the room covered with color. Cheryl changed and left her newly created clothes to dry, wearing only her bikini top and swimming trunks. It's only paint, she thought. I'll grab a hose outside. She walked down the stairs hearing the others fight over the bathrooms. She didn't turn at the sound of the sitting room door open, and Logan stepping through. He sniffed and coughed. Who was sniffing the house paint? Cheryl entered his line of vision wearing her bathing suit, covered in paint, and heading outside. What was she doing now, he asked himself. He followed to see her looking along the ground and along the side of the mansion. He leaned against the stone railing.

"What are you looking for?" She didn't even bother looking at him.

"The…fucking garden hose." He twitched at the choice of words and went next to the stairs and pulled out the long garden hose.

"You mean this 'fucking garden hose'?" She looked up at him, her torso turning, her legs extended, her back slightly arched, and her now visible tan skin glowing in the sunlight.

"Yeah!" He turned it on and showered her with the freezing cold water of the north. She smiled and cheered.

"Yay!" Logan turned off the hose and looked at her. This wasn't the effect he was hoping for.

"Why'd you stop," she asked, the paint running off of her. He exhaled and hosed her down again. When the paint was gone she smiled brightly.

"Thanks Logan." She ran towards the garage, leaving a very bewildered Wolverine on the lawn with the garden hose. Cheryl went to the garage and rummaged through Mellony's trunk until she found the large beach towel to dry herself off. She walked back up the stairs, the boys still yelling at Kitty in the bathroom. She put on another pair of baggy shirt and boy shorts, after all that's all she had, besides a few "other" ware. She headed out, calling out before she left.

"I'm going to town! I'll have my cell phone!"

_Alright. I hope you find a good tide table_, Charles voice echoed in her head. She staggered and grabbed onto the doorframe.

"I'll never get used to that." She jumped in Mellony and drove out into town. She stopped at a grocery store and parked at a corner. She petted the lovely car.

"Don't worry, I'll be back soon." She searched for hours for a shop who sold a tide table. What's wrong with these people, she asked herself. The sun was setting and it would be dinner time soon. She told Kurt that she would be joining the rest of them for dinner. She couldn't be late. When she finally got back, she was frustrated and tired. She passed several people on the way to the dinning room, mumbling under her breath. She was one of the first to sit down at the table and stay still. As others gathered, as soon as they looked at her, they twitched. Her eyes were crimson red and they didn't go unnoticed. The Professor joined and they began to eat. The plates were passed around as everyone took their portion.

"So," said Charles. "What happened to your room today." The five that helped her turned to her incredulity. She smiled as she took a spoonful of broccoli.

"I painted it today. I mean, you said I could paint it anyway I wanted it." He nodded and chuckled.

"I know. I just wanted to make sure nothing horrible happened." Cheryl poked and played with her food, wanting something else. She looked to her left and sniffed. Berserker looked back at her, wondering what she was doing. She skid over closer to him as she pulled out her trusty sewing needle and poked him in the arm.

"Ow! What-" The table stopped all activity and stared as she streamed out the blood into her glass. Logan slapped his forehead. She had to do that here? She sipped at it and shrugged.

"Better than water." Storm chuckled and Charles smiled. Berserker moved his chair farther away from her.

"What?" Charles paid attention as her eyes turned to a darker red. She looked back at the guy next to her.

"You're very nutritious, but not very delicious." She proceeded to push her broccoli onto his plate.

"What are you doing?"

"What? You taste like it." The others snickered under their breath. Kitty leaned over the table.

"Why do you do that?" Cheryl turned to her.

"Do what?"

"Drink other people's blood?" The table was now staring at her, waiting for something.

"Oh, I've just had a craving ever since I got my powers. It just comes with the territory I guess." Kitty leaned back again.

"Freaky," she mumbled under her breath. Everyone stayed quiet during dinner after the little display. However, Cheryl still heard them mumbling and whispering to each other. "Not going near her." and "Vampire, man." and "That's just weird." Berserker kept looking over his shoulder at her and flinched when she moved her arm. Oh, she thought. I see. She looked at the Professor and gave her usual cherry lip smile.

"I'm feeling tired, Charles. May I be excused to bed?" He knew she wasn't tired but smiled back kindly.

"Yes of course." She nodded and walked out the door. It only took a few seconds after she left before the whole room started talking about her. Kurt wasn't getting in the conversation, and neither was Gambit. Bobby and Sam tried to talk about how fun and outgoing she was to Kitty and the rest. Scott and Jean went on about being more accepting of others and their abilities. The noise was reaching a ridiculous level when Rogue slammed her hands on the table and stood up, grabbing everyone's attention.

"What the hell is wrong with y'all!" The Professor raised a hand.

"Now, Rogue…"

"Ah'm sorry Professor but…Ah can' believe you guys would do somethin' like this. It was her first dinner here with us and all you did was criticize her." Kitty scoffed.

"Come on Rogue. You saw her! She drank his blood!" Rogue cocked her hip and crossed her arms over her stomach.

"Did everyone suddenly forget mah power now? Ah heard what every one of ya said and you said the same thing about me! Ah'm the girl you can't touch without passing out! You know what, nevermin'. Ah'm goin' ta bed." She stormed out of the room, Gambit calling after her. Rogue was so angry, she walked right past Cheryl listening in from the hallway. Back in the dinning room, Charles smiled and Logan worried if she would stay. She left the hallway and went back to her room. The paint was still drying and the bed was propped against the dresser. She looked at the top of the dresser. It was wide and long enough for her to sleep on. So she grabbed a few blankets and climbed on. That night, she felt like she could get along here.

As usual, Cheryl woke up and went surfing. The waves were excellent that day, so she stayed out longer. It was ten o'clock by the time she finally got back to the Institute. She bounced as she jumped in the kitchen, expecting to see Logan, but found Rogue, the girl who stood up for her the night before. She was seated at the table eating a pop tart with orange juice, and reading Robert Frost. Cheryl stopped and looked back and forth between the book and Rogue. Finally, Rogue put the book down and looked at the surfer at the door.

"What?"

"You know he smoked pot right?" Rogue cracked a grin.

"Didn't everyone." They laughed and Cheryl took a seat next to her. She sipped from her camelbak, only to find it empty. She frowned.

"Aw, man." Rogue raised an eyebrow.

"What do ya put in there anyway?" Cheryl looked at her camelbak then back to her new friend.

"Juice?" The southern girl snorted.

"No offence, sugah. But Ah don't think you're the type to keep juice on ya back." It was a few seconds before Cheryl started laughing, and soon so was Rogue. Their sides were splitting open when Logan walked in. He took one look at the both of them, grabbing their sides, tears in their eyes, doubled over on the table, and turned around at the door. This only made them laugh harder. By the time they were able to catch their breath without starting again, they talked. They talked about the others, the institute, good clubs to visit in the future, authors and their complexes, and each other's gifts.

"My power is no gift," said Rogue. "All it does is cause more trouble." Cheryl looked at her, wondering if she was joking.

"Wait, wait, wait. You can absorb people's energy, mutant powers, experience, abilities, techniques, memories through the skin… Sweet! Can you imagine if you touched a wolf for just a second! You could hunt anything!" Rogue smiled. No one was ever so enthusiastic about her powers before. Her smile sobered.

"Ya know, most of the others here aren't so positive about abilities like ours." She cocked her head to the side, thinking about the night before.

"What are you talking about?" Rogue sighed, blowing some of her white streaked hair out of her face.

"People don't go near us, sugah. That's just the way it's seen." Cheryl thinks about it then shrugs it off.

"They can think what ever the hell they want. I was promised that I could be myself, and I'm going to stick to it."

Rogue smiled.

"But…" Cheryl continued, her eyes serious from what could be perceived as experience. "I can't judge them for what they are. We're all mutants, right? If you really take a look at us, in our DNA, we're really not different." Rogue gave a half smile. This girl was definitely aomething new. She extended her gloved hand.

"I'm Rogue." Cheryl smiled back.

"Cheryl Davis." They shook hands. Rogue looked her over with a questioning glance.

"How old are you?" The girl sighed. The same question all the time. Granted, she stopped growing around the time her powers kicked in, but it wasn't too bad being only five feet tall, right?

"I'm eighteen," she replied, a twitch in her voice. Rogue recognized it and backed off the subject. I wonder what the others would think, she thought. Cheryl looked at the clock and stood up.

"I gotta go. I'm meeting PB-I mean…Storm? Yeah, Storm for my first training session." Rogue smiled.

"Don't worry, they shouldn't go too hard on ya yet." They agreed to meet again at dinner before separating. She walked up the stairs, smiling at everyone she passed. When she got to her room, Storm was standing next to it. The woman smiled at the girl she brought back to the institute. She had to make sure the little Vamp was prepared for the outside world. If her own students responded in such a negative way to her, she didn't want to think about the rest of the human world.

"Ready to train?" She extended a box to her.

"Follow me." Cheryl took the box and followed her tasty teacher to the lower levels of the institute.


	4. Deadly Shoes

**Chapter 4**

In the observation deck over the Danger room, Storm tried to think of what level would be suitable for Cheryl's first time training. Logan walked in behind her and crossed his arms.

"Has she come out yet?" She smiled.

"No." He sighed, knowing what the problem was.

"She didn't like the uniform did she?" Ororo began to laugh.

"No." He went over to the intercom.

"Little Fang! Get your ass out here!" Cheryl's voice carried out of the locker room clear as a bell.

"No fucking way!"

"Get out here now!" Cheryl stepped into the danger room wearing the generic black spandex suit with yellow gloves and boots, and she did not look happy.

"What the fuck is this thing! It's a wetsuit! That's all this thing is! And it isn't even that good, I mean this is so thin. And you want me to move in this? Oh, and the heels!" Logan jabbed at the intercom button again.

"Shut up, Vamp. We're going to test you to see how you fair with your powers in combat." She stared at them for a second.

"What?!?"

"Use your powers to defeat your opponent." She pulled out her sewing needle as a combat robot began advancing. It stopped a few short feet away from her, waiting for the go. It looks like something from Star Wars, she thought. She looked between her needle to the huge looming piece of machinery.

"This is just fucked up," she said before dodging away from a huge foot. She dodged again and again, never advancing or retreating. It reminded Logan of Whak-A-Mole. He grumbled as he turned to Storm.

"This is a waist of our time." She smiled back thoughtfully at her colleague. He didn't look a day over 24 at the most, but she knew he was older than herself, maybe even more than Charles.

"Maybe she doesn't know that she's supposed to defend herself in the process." They turned back to the simulation to see her riding on the machine's head like a bullrider. Logan pushed at the intercom again.

"You're supposed to attack it, Little Fang!" She stopped as the realization dawned on her.

"Oh!" She was knocked off of the thing, but quickly gained her footing again. She took up a stance, still wobbly before kicking up and lodging her heel into the thing's neck. It twitched before finally falling over, taking her shoe with it. She pulled off the other and swung it around her head.

"Fear my almighty high-heels! Bwahahaha!" Logan raised an eyebrow before laid his face in his hands, better to hide his smile. She was finally able to get the other heel back by the time Logan stepped next to her.

"Not bad, where did you learn to kick like that?" Cheryl remembered when Big Uncle Danny told her they were going to Brazil to watch an old friend of his in a fight.

"Oh, here and there." He looked at the robot again, the hole sputtering and sparking. He didn't want to ask how she knew where to hit it. He just didn't.

"So," he said, turning his attention back to her. "What can you do?" She narrowed her eyes and pointed at the robot.

"Yeah I know, but what can you do with your powers?"

"Oh." She straightened up. "I can do lots of things."

"Anything you can use in combat?" She opened her mouth, but closed it and shook her head. He grumbled again.

"Okay, let's see you make a knife." She looked at her needle, then back up to his face with an innocent look.

"I need more blood." He narrowed his eyes.

"No."

"Please?" He looked up as the doors opened and Scott walked in, dressed and ready.

"Cyclops! Get over here." He jogged over.

"Yeah?" Logan nodded to Cheryl. She pouted, not being able to get some of his wonderful blood. She pricked Scott and drew the blood out. He didn't say anything, just watched his blood form ball the size of a soccer ball. She began to mold it, first into a cylinder, then flattening it and finally getting an edge and point.

"Aha!" she exclaimed, holding it in her hand. Logan looked at it and pushed his finger through it, the liquid swimming in shape around his finger. He cocked an eyebrow. She glared back at him.

"You didn't say anything about density." He sighed again. She was going to be a lot of work.

"Okay, can you levitate?" She knitted her brow together. What was with these people!?! What did she look like? God?

"I'll…try." She took the knife and flattened it into a plate. Logan shook his head. She spread her hands out and began to push the blood out further until it was a thin red disk. She put her foot out, and stepped right through it. She began to swirl the blood around.

"Thanks," she said. "I learned how to make a floating puddle." Scott smiled. Logan didn't.

"Alright then, condense it for me, Vamp." Cheryl twitched at the name again.

"You know I already have a nickname, it's littleb… Vamp it is." The men looked at each other, then back to her as she formed the liquid back into a ball and began squeezing it, literally.

"Squeeze! Squeeze!" Logan began to chuckle.

"Do you need a laxative, Little Fang?" Slowly, the ball began to shrink and deepen in color. Finally, it was the size of a tennis ball, shimmering scarlet and onyx. Her breath was coming out in low pants, but she looked at the little ball with pride and accomplishment. She set her eyes on her teacher and threw the ball at his stomach. It bounced off of him, off the floor and back to her hand. He touched where the ball tickled him and looked back at Cheryl. She was busy playing with it, making it bounce off the walls and ceiling.

"Hey, Little Fang!" The ball flew back to her hand.

"Yes?" He held back his grumble this time.

"What else can you do? You said before that you could do lots of things." She smiled again, a spread of cherry red.

"Yeah, I can change my blood type, purify my blood-and that includes diseases-I can stop bleeding, clot it and make it scab. I can write messages with it. Oh, and for some weird reason, my blood is always highly pressurized." Storm, still up in the monitoring room, sank back into her chair. Logan stopped her.

"Wait, your blood is pressurized." She smiled and nodded as she pulled out her sewing needle.

"See." She poked her finger, squirting out three high projectile sprays. Logan, for the first time since he met her, cocked his head slightly to the side in question, wondering, just wondering, what the fuck. Scott watched the blood spray fly into the air as his own complexion paled. She watched it stop bleeding and clot over before looking back at the two males, their eyes twitching. Logan cleared his throat and pushed the…oddity?...of it aside.

"It just happens?" She nodded.

"Yeah. I think it's because I have more blood in me than a normal human being." Logan turned and started walking back up to the observation deck. Cyclops looked at Cheryl then to Logan, and back again.

"What do you want me to do?" Logan didn't bother looking over his shoulder.

"Stay with her, make sure she doesn't hurt herself." He left the two staring at eachother, Cheryl smiling and Scott twitching. Logan entered the observation deck to see Ororo trying to stifle her giggle. He took his seat next to her.

"I take it you've seen that before?" She nodded, the grin reaching ear to ear.

"She's an interesting child, don't you think Logan?" He didn't answer, just looked out to the danger room. Scott stood to the side, ready to jump in if she needed it. She cleared level after level, crushing robot after robot. Finally, she started to waver, a giant mechanical hand coming at her from the side. Scott stepped in and helped. As the session went on, he was barely able to dodge one of the blades. Cheryl stepped behind him and raised a hand to the small cut that had formed. It clotted and formed a slight scab. More came flying at them, as Cyclops moved to get the right shot. Cheryl followed behind him, concentrating as hard as she could.

"Stop moving damn it!" For the rest of the level, she hid behind Cyclops. Logan smirked.

"Looks like we found her level." Storm looked at the readings gained from the fight. She looked back to him.

"What are you thinking?" He stood up and headed down, showing something of a devilish smirk. Entering the danger room, he stared at the two students. The two were completely different. Cyclops, the senior student of the class, dutiful, take charge, uptight, and self righteous. Then Vamp, the new youngster, laid back, smiling, friendly, and always willing to listen. He almost laughed. Cyclops stood straighter as he advanced.

"Before I tell you what you're going to be doing, let's hear from the Calvary." The boy stammered as he looked at the new recruit.

"Her powers make her more like a medic than a fighter. Maybe she should go see Beast." Logan nodded.

"Alright, Little Fang. Here's the deal. You'll spend half your days with Hank, then the other half training here. I don't care if you're intent on healing the Devil himself. You're learning how to fight." Her jaw dropped. Before she could retort, Wolverine turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder.

"We got a few more hours to go. Let's get started." They trained for hours, going through the same levels again and again. Logan looked at the clock when he saw her trip behind Cyclops. It was five o'clock. He pushed the intercom button.

"Alright, that's it for today. Vamp, you'll go to the Lab at nine o'clock every morning to work with Hank. Now get out of here." He watched as Cheryl shook hands with Cyclops then proceeded to chop down on the dense ball of his blood. She stiffened and he pushed on the intercom to hear what she was saying.

"Milk! Milk! I need! Milk!" She fanned her mouth, tears coming to her eyes. Cyclops looked almost insulted, but couldn't get over the horror of the act. She breathed in deeply, eyeing the blood in her hand. Ororo looked over the controls.

"What is she doing?" Cheryl took a few more gasps of air before shoving the rest of the ball into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. For a second, she stilled then ran out of the danger room. She ran, tears streaming down her cheeks, unable to scream. She ran past everyone to the kitchen. Gambit was grabbing a glass from the cabinet when she barged in, looking to be in total distress.

"What's wrong, _pe'ti_?!" She pushed past him to the fridge and grabbed the open carton of milk. She ripped it open, not bothering with the folds. She chugged and chugged, rivers of the drink running down her jaw. The carton tipped up, the last drops falling on her tongue. She shook it, making sure there was nothing left. Gambit inched over, eyeing the torn piece of cardboard in her hand. Her breath came out in low, shallow pants.

"You okay?" he asked again. Her neck twitched as she threw the carton into the recycle bin. She grumbled under her breath. Something about too spicy and not healthy. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"_Pe'ti_?" She turned to him with a bright smile, her eyes a lovely shade of dark cherry.

"I'm fine." He drew an eyebrow up as she exited again and came back, wearing her usual clothing carrying an ipod and her keys.

"Where you goin'?" She walked to the garage door.

"I'm going to find myself a tide table." His head tipped to the side.

"I don' know what 'dat is, but good luck, _cher_." She smiled again before leaving.

"I'll be back by dinner!" She walked by Mellony and petted her.

"I'm sorry," she said, regret clearly in her voice. "but I think I'll use my feet this time." She put her earplugs in and turned on the ipod. She danced and pranced all the way to town, singing to the best of her ability. People walked around her as she started to sing even louder. She took didn't bother to take notice of this.

"_Peaches come from a can!_

_They were put there by a man!_"

"Look out!" she heard someone shout from behind her. She turned and noticed that there was a boy on a flying skateboard coming at her. She widened her stance and braced her arm up, catching the board enough for the boy to make a decent landing. He skidded to a stop and tore off his helmet.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I don't know what I was doing! Are you okay?" She looked at her arm then at the boy, then back again.

"Ow! I mean, ow! You get used to them, but ow!" He stammered as he inched closer to examine her arm. She wasn't crying, or wailing and she was, what, fourteen?

"You know, most people would be screaming in pain right about now, but please don't start." She sighed as she eyed the skateboard.

"And did you know, that if you leaned to the right and kicked up a little bit, you could have cleared that jump?"

The boy wrinkled his brow and thought about it, now that he wasn't about to crash land into another human being.

"I think you're right." She laughed.

"Of course I'm right. Don't question the genius!" He scratched the back of his skull. This girl was definitely weird, and yet there was something familiar about her. He held out his hand.

"I'm Evan. Even Daniels. But friends call me Spyke." She shook his hand.

"Cheryl Davis. So tell me, do you know this town?" He scoffed, kicking up his board into his hand.

"Like the back of my hand." She smiled brightly.

"Good! Where the fuck can I find a fucking tide table." He took her to a small surf shop close to the coast. She jumped him out of joy, finally getting what she was looking for. They walked out of the shop, smiling, when Evan looked at her arm to see the damage he caused. The skin was tanned, non blemished and unbruised. He poked her arm, to see if it was covered by some miraculous make-up…that she didn't have time to put on?

"OW! WHAT THE FUCK!" She grabbed her arm away, Evan still looking at the unmarked skin.

"You don't have a bruise."

"Yes I do!"

"No you don't. You don't have a mark on you! I mean, I have strong bones, but if I took a hit like that, I'd have a mondo bruise." She shrugged.

"Trees hurt more." The comment seemed random, but so true, so he laughed. They walked a ways more, before they both looked at the time and screamed "Dinner!" He looked at her.

"Does your family have dinner at this time too?" She gave a short laugh.

"Well, they're not really family, but yeah."

"Where do you live?"

"Oh, I'm new there. It's the mansion at the end of town. With the big scary gate." He peered at her for a second, then noticed how this small girl had eyes the color of dark cherries.

"The Xavier Institute?" She snapped her fingers.

"Yeah! That's the name."

"Dude! I live there too!" She stiffly put her hand on his shoulder.

"Can you do me a favor?" He nodded.

"Don't call me dude." They walked on to the Institute, talking about boarding sports and whatnot. They reached the front gate and punched in the code for the twisted iron to open. As soon as the gate closed behind them, Cheryl pulled out her sewing needle and poked him. Spyke jumped away, rubbing at the red thread coming from his arm.

"What the hell?" He watched it form and twist into a blob of blood floating in front of her. She slurped at it, and his stomach sank about an inch. Her eyes narrowed with contemplation before she snapped her fingers. The blob began to lengthen and curve into a small celery stick. She sank her teeth into it, staring at her new companion.

"What?" His eye twitched.

"I…" He squinted at the small teenage girl eating his blood, before slapping his forehead.

"I taste like celery?!?" She crunched down on the stick again.

"What?" He let out an exaggerated sigh.

"There's no way I can taste that healthy." She took another bite, looking him up and down.

"Well, you board, and you look healthy. But it could use some peanut butter…" She looked back at the school, a smile forming.

"Come on, it's dinner time." They walked to the front door. The door opened as the whole group cheered for their friend's return.

"Welcome back bud."

"Hey! Evan!"

"Dude, how was home?" Cheryl stood next to the doorframe, watching everyone laugh and greet Spyke. The Professor entered the room with the same generous smile.

"It's good to see you back, Evan."  
"Thanks, Professor." The old man turned and look at Cheryl in her small corner.

"Come now, before the food gets cold." Cheryl walked past him. He smiled up at her.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She looked at him and smirked. There was just something about him… At the dinner table, Rogue sat on one side of her, with Gambit, Kurt, and now Evan sitting around her. They laughed among themselves. When a plate of vegetables was passed around, Evan glared at the celery before passing it on. The day ended and everyone got ready for bed. Kurt teleported next to Cheryl.

"Hey, need any help with your furniture?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you honestly believe that I can lift that much?" Scott and Jean decided, after many minutes of debate of the right time, to walk over, shame painted on their faces.

"If you wouldn't mind, we'd like to help. Because of last night." She cocked her head to the side. What happened last night? Her fingers snapped again.

"Oh yeah. Huh. It's no problem. I would guess it's a normal reaction. I think. Maybe…" Scott walked past her and grabbed the end of the desk.

"Hey, Kurt, you going to help or not?" Kurt glared at him before teleporting over. The students helped bring in the furniture, but not before admiring the wonderful paint job done. Many contemplated on asking the Professor if they could do the same. Spyke poked at the still gleaming white trim.

"Why is the trimming still white?" Cheryl smiled.

"Looks sweet, no?" Everything was put in it's place before they said goodnight and retired to their own rooms. Cheryl climbed into bed and started bouncing on it, reminding her of a hotel in Hawaii. After about an hour of jumping on her bed, she turned out the lights and stared at the glow-in-the-dark paint that was splattered on the walls with the other colors of the rainbow. Now, she thought. This was a room.

The song she's singing in the streets is called "Peaches" by Presidents of the USA.

Thanks again! We really really REALLY like reviews! It makes us feel all warm and fuzzy! So help our furry little hearts okay?


	5. Dress Code

Chapter 5

Greetings everyone, we're back! We're sorry for the lack of updates, but problems will be problems. So here it is, the next chapter of our story, and be ready for new chapters soon. Also, we would like to thank you for the reviews. We appreciate them and love them. And please, GIVE US MORE. Thank you and enjoy.

**Chapter 5**

Logan sat down at the small kitchen table, the sun beginning to shine through the windows; his paper opened in front of him with two pieces of toast next to the milk carton with the top cut off. It was a beautiful morning, then Cheryl walked in. He stopped his reading for a second to look her over. She was small, tanned, and in good shape. Her hair was still wet and clinging to her skin. She smiled brightly when she saw him.

"Morning!"

"Hn." His paper cracked, standing on end. She bounced to the fridge, took out the orange juice, poured herself a glass, bouncing back to the table afterwards. Logan continued to drink from his milk, never looking over his paper. Cheryl looked at the newspaper, not really interested in the front page.

"You know, you should eat more." The top of the paper folded over. He looked at his quart of milk in the carton, and his two small pieces of toast, then looked at her one small glass of OJ. He raised an eyebrow.

"Look who's talking, Miss OJ." She narrowed her eyes and grinned at him.

"Okay." She stretched over and took one of the pieces of toast and started munching on it like a squirrel. He growled, having his food stolen and raised a fist. Her eyes glittered again.

"Ah! Remember, you didn't want me to take your blood before, so don't give it to me." She smiled cherry red. His hand unclenched and grasped the milk again.

"Hn." The paper wall went up again. She munched on until it was gone, and he returned to his paper. The toast in her hand disappeared, crumbs scattered everywhere on the table. She sipped at her OJ, eyeing the piece of golden brown buttered toast left on the plate. Logan was hidden behind the paper; her hand inched forward, he didn't make a sound. She inched again, nothing. Her hand stretched out, the fingers just about to graze the crispy surface, when Logan's hand came up and smacked hers away. She bolted back in her seat, clinging to the beaten hand like a wounded puppy. The paper folded down again, his eyes halfway between a smirk and a glare. Her eyes widened in fake innocence.

"But, you said I should eat more…" The paper snapped back up.

"Not from my plate," he gruffed. She glared out the window and pouted. A few moments went by before her eyes returned to the golden buttered prize on the plate. Her hand inched forward again, slower this time. Her hand was about to reach the plate.

"What did I just say?" Her hand jumped back at the sound of his voice to slick back her hair.

"I don't know what you mean." She finished her orange juice before her head perked up again.

"Oh, yeah, I have to go see Beast in the Lab." She looked at Logan. He raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Where's the lab?" He opened his mouth to try to give directions when he saw her grasping the table and looking in the air around her, as if something was about to swoop down and take off her head.

"I'll never get used to that." He grinned and snapped the paper up again. Charles… She got up, shook her head around. She started to walk out before stopping and looking back at the last piece of toast. Her eyes dashed between the prey and its protector, then bolted, grabbed the toast and ran out.

"See you later!" Logan tried to grab her but her small frame slipped away.

"Cheryl!" She was gone, with the last piece of his so called breakfast. Cheryl ran up the stairs and rinsed off. She recalled the information the Professor "gave" her and headed on her way. She arrived at the Laboratory exactly fifteen minutes later. She knocked on the door.

"Come in." The voice was an older male, but gentle. The doors opened and she looked around, no one was in there.

"Hello?"

"Up here." She looked up and saw Beast, Hank McCoy, upside-down on his bars reading over something. He gave a toothy smile before jumping down.  
"Pardon me, I do tend to enjoy a bit of exercise when I work." She looked at him and cocked her head to the side. Hank spread out his long arms and shrugged.

"The aim of art is not to represent the intended appearance of things, but their inward significance." She smiled and chuckled.

"If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change." He stared at her smiling face for a second before raising one of his hands.

"Buddha?"

"Yup. Aristotle?"

"Correct." They smiled again.

"I'm Hank McCoy, otherwise known as Beast." She shook his furry blue hand.

"Cheryl Davis, otherwise known as Vamp. Gah." She turned her head out and stuck her tongue out. "I hate that name." He chuckled.

"Don't worry, you get used to some of them." She turned her head to the side again, her eyes narrowed.

"What?" She pointed at him.

"I was just wondering…are you related to Kurt?" He stared at her for a second, not really sure what to say. Then a smile began to form, than a chuckle, and soon he was clutching at his sides from all the laughter coming out. She looked around, hoping to find some answer to why the question was so funny. When he finally got up again and wiped the tears from his cheeks, he patted her on the back.

"You're not used to being around Mutants are you?" Her lower lip slipped forward into a mini-pout.

"Why would you say that?" He just shook his head. One would have thought that she'd run into someone already. He pulled a stool near to his and motioned for her to sit.

"Now, you've been assigned to come work with me. To help develop your powers more in the biological scene. So I'd like to see what you can do first. Start with the easiest then move up to difficult, alright?" Her brow squished again.

"Are you sure you want to see that?" Hank donned his glasses and picked up a clipboard.

"I know we didn't really get to know each other during the time at dinner, but trust me when I say, acceptance is my creed. As a wise woman once said, 'When you find peace within yourself, you become the kind of person who can live at peace with others." Her smile was simple before she scratched her head.

"I can't figure out who said that." He started writing on the clipboard and smiled.

"Maybe I'll tell you one of these days. Now come on. Let's start." He rummaged over one of the counters and picked up a folder. He looked over the contents and smiled.

"Ah! I can see why Logan told you to come to me. So you can regenerate blood of any blood type. Could you show me?" She cocked her head to the side.

"What?"

"Could you show me how you regenerate blood?" She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.

"Why does everyone ask me that? I mean come on!" She covered her face with her hands and let out a muffled yell. Hank just raised an eyebrow and tapped his pen. A few moments later, she sat up, the cherry spread of lips present.

"Better now."

"Alright… so, are you going to show me?" Her eyes narrowed.

"You have one more pint of blood." He nodded and scribbled on the clipboard.

"Okay, next please." She drew out her needle and poked him. He blinked at the prick, but stared amazed as the tiny spider's thread of his blood floated into the air and formed a ball.

"Fascinating! Odd, but fascinating." They continued through the steps, shaping it into different glasses, then juggling it. Finally, she squeezed the ball into a tiny marble. With the flick of her finger, the ball went flying off of the walls, crashing bottles along the shelves and walls. The tiny thing finally rested back in her hand. Their eyes were still wide before smiles slowly began to creep up. Finally, Hank took out a syringe.

"I was hoping to get a sample of your blood. Do you mind?" She looked at the needle, then back to her teacher.

"Honestly… I don't know what will happen, but you could try." She smiled innocently. His eyebrow quirked up as he disinfected her arm and punctured her skin. FOOM! The back of the syringe flew off to the back of the lab. Two squirts of blood flew out of the tube. He looked down at his bruised thumb.

"Interesting." An irresolute smile slowly crawled across her lips.

"My blood is highly pressurized. I don't know why it does that, but it is the only thing I have no control over. Hence the flying mechanical piece." The doctor rubbed his furry chin.

"Intriguing." He tried again several times, but the same thing occurred. The back flew off to either land in some new elixir, or break something glass. When he was about to try again, Cheryl stopped him.

"Wait! Let me try something." She took the syringe and pulled out the back. The needle struck her vein instantly shooting blood into the air. With her other hand, she controlled the blood back into the syringe. When it was full, she pulled out the needle and pushed the back on carefully.

"See." She smiled. "All done." He grinned in amusement.

"Indeed, that's something you don't see everyday." He looked up at the clock on his wall. Instead of numbers on the clock, there were the first twelve elements on the periodic table.

"It is time for your class with Logan. Better hurry, he doesn't tolerate tardiness." She jumped up and headed for the door. At the last second, she turned back and looked up at the clock.

"Heh, it's cute." She ran out, Hank laughing in his chair. She ran down the hall. About half way down, she popped the small ball of blood in her mouth. It reminded her of the holidays, but she couldn't figure it out. She put the notion in the back of her head for the moment. In the Danger Room, Wolverine started setting up what he wanted to run through. Vamp was the medic for the team, but she needed to learn how to protect herself. Of course, from the look of things the day before, she could take care of herself pretty well. The doors opened behind him. In walked in Cheryl with a smile on her face, and he could see why. She wasn't wearing the usual uniform. It was the kind of uniform a student of kung fu would wear. The shirt was a Chinese blouse falling just below mid thigh, slits coming up to her waist, black high collared with red trimming and oriental knots flowing down the right side of her body. The pants were also black and wide in the leg but with elastic around the ankle with what looked like silk slippers. The final detail, a gorgeous phoenix embroidered on the front climbing up to her waist. She pulled her hair up into a makeshift bun, tendrils falling around her shoulders. Logan's eye twitched.

"What are you wearing?" She looked down at her outfit and smiled.

"My uniform." He rubbed his temples.

"No, you're supposed to wear the same uniforms as the rest of the new students. Now get back in there and change." The fabric swayed as she cocked her hip to the side.

"Who's going to make me? You?" His eyes narrowed down at her.

"Don't tempt me." He soon regretted his words as a charming smile spread across her face.

"So wait, you're going to follow me, into the girl's changing room, strip me-" The doors opened behind her.

"Who's stripping?" Kurt stood at the entrance, dressed and ready to train. Cheryl smiled brightly.

"Oh, I was just asking Logan if he-" Her mouth was clamped shut by Logan's hand. She glared up at him, and he glared back.

"Shut. Up." He removed his hand from her lips. She breathed in deep.

"But he has a different outfit!" Kurt looked over his uniform before raising an eyebrow in question. He looked over Cheryl's new outfit.

"Nice uniform!" He gave her two thumbs up. She giggled and smiled in return. Her eyes leered up at her teacher.

"See, someone likes my uniform." He responded with the usual grumbling under his breath. With tension riding high on his back, he stood between them, arms crossed over his built chest.

"Alright, say hi to your new partner." Cheryl and Kurt looked at each other before cheering in sync.

"Awesome!"

"Enough! Now get ready, we're going to be here for a while." Logan turned and walked up to the control room. The blue fuzzy dude grinned over at his new partner.

"Wow, can you believe it? We're going to be working together." She didn't have the chance to respond, as the room came to life. Logan turned on the intercom.

"Alright, the idea of the session is to dodge. You two will be the medical unit in battle. We're practicing your tumbling skills today. So, Elf, you'll be teleporting around the area. Lil' Fang, as soon as you're feet touch the ground, you'll tumble away. And don't you start yappin' about how easy this sounds. Alright, start." The first few tries were awkward to say the least. Both Nightcrawler and Vamp tried to find different ways to teleport together to make it easier. Nothing worked. After teleporting, she would either loose her balance and fall, or completely wipe out on a flip from being disoriented. They repeated this for hours, until she finally made a successful tumble. She landed, on one bended knee, her arms stretched high in triumph.

"VIVA LA POOF!" Logan slapped his forehead. The students laughed and played during the rest of the session. Cheryl tried to do a summersault in the air, but failed miserably. The day ended, and they all headed for dinner. The two teenagers talked about the training with vigor, all the while the teachers talking amongst themselves. Logan kept looking back at the small girl waving her utensils around with enthusiasm. He was surprised, maybe she could actually learn something. The table diffused, everyone headed to their rooms. Cheryl looked in her mirror and took a step back. Her eyes were burning red.

"Wow, I guess it took more out of me then I thought." She undressed and jumped in bed, passing out on impact.


	6. Flying Green

Chapter 6

This is an apology for not updating soon like we said... We don't know what to say... Stupid finals... Damn cornrows...

**Chapter 6**

The days went by for two weeks with the same routine. Cheryl went to the Lab every morning at nine to work out the fine tuning on her powers. After lunch she would make her way to the Danger Room to work more on dodging techniques. Her powers were advancing quite nicely. She was able to gain more control over blood properties, that is separate it into two piles, one more red, the other more yellow. Her density control became better, she was able to keep the knife and ball shapes. However, the knife turned out to be more of a beating stick. Every time she would make one, she would test the sharpness on Wolverine, who only looked at her like she was crazy. That's it, he wouldn't even bruise. Every morning, she rose with the tide to surf for a good four hours before returning to the mansion. However, one morning, she arrived to the white tip of blue froth rolling in with the oceans beautiful bestial majesty. The waves called to her. Who was she to ignore such a request?

It was ten o'clock when she walked into the lab. Hank sat at one of the tables, going over the samples she was supposed to look at.

"So," he started, not missing a beat from the research in front of him. "Where were you?" She broke out into a huge grin.

"Oh Man! The waves were so perfect, they called out to me, spoke to my very soul…" He rose from his seat and walked over to her, extending a thick manila folder in his paw.

"Just like the samples on the table, I'm sure." She grumbled under her breath, stomping her feet as she walked over to the table. She worked diligently up to the time when she would be going to train with Logan, if Beast hadn't told her to keep working.

"You took time out of my day to surf-"

"Hey, the waves begged me to stay."

"So you're staying until the work is finished." She stayed for another hour before Hank smiled.

"Thank you, Cheryl. Now you may run." She stuck out her tongue as she ran for dear life. He sat there, hoping to god she didn't die from biting off her tongue, or Logan. By the time she was out of the dressing room and to the main doors, she forgot to go though the back. The doors opened before her, and there was the Wolverine, in all his perpetual rage. Cheryl smiled at him, eyes wide, and hoping she would be able to run again if she needed to.

"Hi Logan." His eyes narrowed, focusing their gaze on her. She felt a slight shiver run up her back. Was he cleaving my soul just now, she thought.

"Where were you?"

"Nice to see you too."

"Where. Were. You." His eyes bored down deep into her brain, she couldn't look away.

"Uh…Beast kept me." Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Why did he do that?" She stood still for a second, her lips started to move but no sound could be heard. When did he have such blue eyes?

"I, uh… I was…. Um…." She blinked a few times before nodding her head down and looking at her slipper toed feet.

"I was late," she said. "going to my lessons with Beast. I was late. So…" Wolverine sighed.

"So he kept you for the full session." He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a gruff noise.

"Great, well, lets finish it up here. Get out there and help your partner." He walked off, leaving a very confused Cheryl. Why was she so suddenly interested in her shoe? Kurt snickered at her. She lifted her head and cocked her hip to the side, pushing the blue eyes to side for later inspection.

"What about you Poof Man? You've been late before." He snickered again.

"But not like that! Admit it, you're just a lazy surfer!"

"Hey!" She snapped. "Don't dis the surfing." They finished the rest of the session with no hitches. Logan left grumbling under his breath. Cheryl however, felt disappointed. She changed and started wandering around the institute. A place so big had to have something going on, right? Her feet continued to move until she found herself in the entertainment room. It was a pretty decent sized room for the large screen TV, several game consoles, two cabinets full of games and movies, and the large plush couch, that could easily be turned into a bed. Sitting right in the middle of the couch, slouched so his chin was touching his chest, was Evan, remote in hand. He flipped through the channels again as Cheryl plopped down next to him. He glanced at her then back to the screen. She sighed heavily as she twiddled her thumbs.

"I'm bored." Evan looked over at her.

"Didn't you just come out of training?"

"Yup."

"With Logan?"

"Oh yeah." She stared at her thumbs as she started to thumb wrestle herself. He stared at her for a minute. The girl was obviously crazy.

"You were just in training…"

"But I'm bored!" She pinned one of her thumbs.

"Aha! I got you!" The thumb escaped from under her grasp. "Ooo, you're good…" She stopped and looked over at Evan. He stopped flipping to stare at her like he was wondering when the second head grew. She smiled broadly as an idea popped up.

"Wanna play a game?" Her smile quirked evilly at him. He twitched at the action.

"Sure…?" Kurt poofed in above them, excited as he could be after exhaustion.

"A game? Really?" The door opened behind them. Rogue entered expecting Evan to be flipping channels, instead she found Evan and Kurt staring at Cheryl.

"What's goin' on?" Kurt jumped over the couch to greet his sister.

"Ve're goin' to play a game!" Rogue pushed her brother aside and looked at Cheryl. She had a glint in her eye that spoke of trouble and fun.

"What is it, sugar?"

"Let's play Frisbee tag!" The three looked at her, trying to figure out what "frisbee tag" was.

"I have heard of frisbee," said Kurt. "and tag, but not frisbee tag." Cheryl smiled her cherry red grin.

"If you've got frisbees I can show you how to play frisbee tag." They headed out to the backyard. Several of the other students looked at the strange group collected together as they passed by the halls. They reached the back door when they heard a very familiar voice.

"Hey guys!" They looked at the doorway to find their resident Cajun. Cheryl was more than happy to recruit another friend for the slaughter.

"What are you guys doin'…hey! What do you think you're doing?" She looped her arm though his and started dragging him outside.

"You're coming to play with us." They walked to the edge of the woods, sending Kurt to get the frisbees.

"We'll need three of them. Find green one's if you can!" Gambit quirked an eyebrow.

"So, what are we doin' here, _peti_?"

"I'll tell you in a minute." Kurt teleported back with three green frisbees.

"This is what you do." She took one of the frisbees, bent it to make sure it could take some damage, and threw it at Evan. It hit him right in the rib.

"Hey! That hurt!"

"Then don't get hit! Let me explain. Think of it like tag, only instead of running all over the place, you throw a frisbee instead. When you have a frisbee you can't move until you throw it. When it's coming at you, you can catch it and throw it back, or wait till it lands then throw it." Kurt raised his hand. "Yes Kurt?"

"How do ve win?" She turned her eyes to the side and pursed her lips, like she was really thinking.

"The one with the most targets, that's you hitting someone else, wins. Alright are we ready, let's go-"

"Wait a minute, _peti_." She groaned as she looked at her fellow red-eyed person.

"What now?"

"Just a question, 'kay? What about our powers? There have to be limits right?" He looked at Kurt as he spoke the last sentence. The fuzzy dude looked shocked.

"What?" Gambit held up his hands in defence.

"I'm just sayin', mon ami, that you might have more of an advantage that the rest of us." Cheryl cut Kurt off before he could respond.

"Alright, alright. You are only allowed to use your powers within a…ten foot…radius…?" They stared at her.

"Ten…feet. How are we supposed to do anything in ten feet?"

"Figure it out." Gambit peered over at Rogue and grinned.

"Are you going to join us, _cher_?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ah'm not playin'." He loomed over her, the grin still pulled lazily across his face.

"You scared, cher? Don't worry, I be gentle." She pushed him back and thrust her finger into his chest.

"Ah can kick yer sorry ass any time swamp rat!" Cheryl smiled.

"Alright, lovebirds. Let's get playin!" Rogue twitched at the term but followed on her threat. The hours went by in the forest. The group tried their best to tag Cheryl but nothing could really get at the veteran. Kurt tried several times to tag people by teleporting ten feet at a time. That plan failed. Spyke had the brilliant idea to block a frisbee by shooting it with a spike. It ended up with a hole in the middle and nailed to the trunk of a tree. Gambit saw this and thought he could do better, so the next time someone tried to tag him he threw a charged card at it. Unfortunately, he charged it too much, leaving what was left of the frisbee to crumble to the ground in charred pieces. Rogue got a hold on Gambit and tried the same trick. This time, the frisbee didn't break into as many pieces. Finally when everyone was awake, exhausted, and just ready to fall down, Cheryl tallied down the points of who hit or missed.

"Okay…seeing how I'm the only one that was not hit, and didn't break a frisbee."

"Or me!"

"Or Kurt, and I was the only one to not use my powers, so I win! Yay!" Evan looked up at the girl like she was just asking for something bad to happen.

"Damn man, this is almost like training." Cheryl still smiled brightly, barely out of breath.

"Ah, this is nothin'. I could do this easily." The four stopped to look at her. Was she really thinking clearly about what she was saying or just hallucinating from the absurd amount of exercise. Kurt burst out laughing.

"Yah right! I bet you couldn't do it for two weeks." She raised her eyebrow at the challenge.

"Oh really?" He grinned back.

"Yah really."

"Name your terms." The other three of the group leaned in closer.

"Two weeks of double training with Logan." The other three grimaced. They couldn't imagine the agony of going a second round with Logan in one day…ever! Cheryl simply grinned.

"You are so on." They shook hands and headed back to the mansion. None of them really believed that she was going to take the bet, but come the next day…

"You want to do what?" Logan didn't believe what he was hearing. The petite strawberry blonde surfer just asked if she could go around for another training session.

"Why?" She merely smiled and shrugged.

"I just want to better myself, you know?" He lifted an eyebrow. Did she turn into a cheerleader? Did he actually believer her? Fuck no! But if she wanted to be worked to the bone, he wasn't going to deny her.

"Alright. Hey, Elf, you can go. Little Fang, we're going over the system again. Level four this time." Cheryl winked as Kurt exited. Later that day, the other three nearly choked on their food. Evan tried to think of the torture she must be putting herself through.

"She did it?!" Kurt nodded solemnly.

"Yah. She just smiled and winked at me." Gambit laid a hand above his heard and sighed heavily.

"Oh! My poor petit!" Rogue smacked him upside the head.

"Shut up, swamp rat." He grinned back at her.

"Yes, Mistress." He readied himself for another hit on the head until she smacked him in the stomach. The rest of them laughed and continued with their lunch. No one saw Cheryl for the rest of the day until dinner. She seemed out of breath and her eyes were brighter but everything seemed fine. After dinner, Rogue caught her before she went to bed.

"You're really goin' though with this?" asked Rogue. Cheryl sniffed at her. The southern belle smelled sweet with a hint of bitterness. It smelled like… She took out her needle and pricked her friend. Rogue's eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat.

"No! Don't eat-"

"Chocolate!" The surfer chic grinned broadly. "And not the cheap stuff they put on sale during sugar holidays. What?" Rogue looked at the girl, jaw reaching the floor.

"It didn't hurt you?" Cheryl laughed.

"Please! Your powers only work on your skin. Honestly! Don't question the genius!" She turned on her heel and exited to her room. Down the hallway, Magma and Cannonball rubbed their arms where Cheryl pricked them.

The next morning, Cheryl looked at the time and thought about sleeping in. Her hand came up and slapped her across the face.

"What the hell was I thinking?" She rolled out of bed and got herself ready. Her feet trudged forward. She was more tired than usual, which would seem odd if she was awake. As she entered the kitchen, she collided with something big and hard.

"Careful, little one." It had a Russian accent and patted her on the head. She sniffed the air. Bitter and nutty, she smelled it before. It smelled like…Columbia… COFFEE! Out of reflex, she pricked the thing in front of her. The thing didn't flinch so much as question the drawing of blood. Cheryl took a sip.

"Ah…Columbian Supreme…with half & half." She cranked her head all the way back to look up and smiled.

"Hi, I haven't met you before."

"I am Piotr, but you may call me Colossus. And you little one?" She took another sip.

"I'm Cheryl, I'm new here. By the way, you taste great."

"Thank you?" She looked at the clock on wall and gasped.

"I'm sorry, I have to go or I'll miss the tide." The blood formed into a ball which she swallowed whole. Cheryl smiled again at the big Russian.

"Thanks again Columbia." She walked past. Piotr followed her.

"It is Colossus." They stopped at the back door to the garage. She smiled up at the guy twice her size.

"I know." She exited the house and drove off to the coming tide. At eight o'clock she returned to find Logan reading the paper with his miniscule breakfast, which she tried stealing…again, and failed…again. She'd get that breakfast someday. After eating, showering, and dressing she went to study with Hank until noon. After a half-hour lunch Cheryl walked into the Danger Room ready for a full scale, head on workout with the drill instructor himself, Logan. Vamp and Nightcrawler trained their routines over and over again until 3:30 p.m. Nightcrawler's time was up, but Vamp's was just starting. At 7:00 p.m., just before dinner, Logan released his student to replenish her energy. After dinner, Cheryl hung out with people, her trusty needle in hand. After an hour of tasting people, she gathered her friends to head for the woods to play Frisbee tag until they found new ways to destroy all the frisbees. Then, at the end of the day, finally, she headed to bed and passed out from her nearly twenty hour day.

Cheryl Davis repeated this for the rest of the week, each day tasting someone different. One lunch, she pricked Sunspot, who tasted like steak a little too rare so she tried to move him into the sun to see if he'd cook more. Everyone was noticing her rise of appetite. Kurt walked up to her during her lunch break. It was the end of the first week and so far she was sticking to it.

"Hey Vamp!" Cheryl growled at the blue fuzzball.

"Don't call me that outside of training. You know, people still think I'm an evil creature from the dark depths of night." She brought her hands up to monster claws and hissed. Kurt laughed.

"Vell yah, I mean you have been eating more people recently." She punched him in the arm.

"Hello, people are still walking around here!"

"Sorry, but… I have to ask. Vhy are you drinking so much? You never did before." Cheryl stopped in mid-slap-attack. Why was she drinking so much? She slapped him on the back and laughed.

"It probably just has something to do with my powers. I mean I have been getting better at them." Kurt nodded at the explanation.

"Hey guys!" Behind them, Rogue walked up carrying two plates of food.

"Ah didn't expect more than me and Bloodshot here." Kurt quirked up at the nickname.

"Bloodshot?"

"Yeah, when her eyes get all red, they look bloodshot." Kurt looked at Cheryl.

"Can I call you Bloodshot?"

"No! Why do I have to have so many nicknames?! What's wrong with Cheryl?" Rogue and Kurt looked at each other then back at the petite surfer.

"Boring," they said in unison. Cheryl grumbled at them.

"Hey Little Fang!" Cheryl wanted to scream. Behind her, Logan was ready for the workout. Rogue laughed as her friend scarfed down what she could.

"Don't worry," she said. "If he's working you to death, it just means he likes you." The surfer chic glared at her.

"Yay me."


	7. Mental Fencing

Hello again everyone, it's been awhile. There is a reason why this chapter has taken a very long time to get to you. 1) The Demented Twins have been separated for the time being. 2) School life and house-mate life. It sucks. But here is the next chapter in the adventure of Cheryl and we do hope you enjoy it. Also, thank you all for the favs and comments, it really helps us stay motivated to completing the story. Enjoy! - The Demented Twins.

**Chapter 7**

Cheryl walked into the kitchen. She just worked another double session with Logan and she was thirsty. She was halfway done with the bet with Kurt and knew that victory was in sight. Jean and Scott walked in, ready to take food out to the dining room for dinner. Cheryl was still thirsty, and it was only growing, day by day. Maybe I should ask Hank about it, she thought. She looked over at her two associates. Cheryl had been at the school for several weeks now, yet she still didn't know much about the golden students. She scratched her throat. She was really thirsty. Scott tasted like cyan pepper, not the thing to help her right now. But Jean… She hadn't had Jean flavor yet. Before either of the students knew what was happening, the small red-eyed girl pricked Jean and drew blood. The crimson spider thread spun itself into a tight ball. Cheryl slurped it up and grinned pleasantly.

"Wow, I must say I am impressed. I mean I've had some good French wine before but this I actually like." She licked her cherry lips, savoring the flavor. Jean was awestruck by the simple action. Scott was angry. Any creature might see this as sensible behavior. However, this was Scott and Jean, sensible does not enter the equation.

"What's your problem?" he yelled at the small girl. She blinked back at him.

"What?"

"We're just about to go eat dinner. You couldn't wait five more minutes to poke someone else?" Cheryl looked between the two, and knew why he was so angry. As cute as it was, it wasn't his place to get angry.

"I was thirsty and I had yet to taste Jean." Scott gritted his teeth.

"You keep saying that, but you know it only makes you seem more like a vampire." A cocky smile jerked at his mouth. "You know what? I bet you can't last a week without drinking blood." All the sunshine and humor vanished from Cheryl's face.

"Don't you tell me I can't do something." Leaving that to soak into their brains, she walked off to eat dinner. At the table, Charles noticed something heavy in the minds of his students, mostly centered around Cheryl but decided to not put any pressure on them, but wait and see.

Over the course of the next four days, Cheryl Davis continued with her twenty hour schedule. The blood she received during trained and other occasions out on the other "training" sessions went into several jam jars. Each of the jars was classified by four things: flavor, name, blood type, and mood. As her tasting adventure started, she realized that the person's mood affected their taste as well. All of these jars were kept in an industrial refrigerator hidden beside the wardrobe, away from the doorway. Every once in a while she'd stare at the blood jars. The smell made her fingers quake, the urge to drink stronger and stronger, but in the end, she closed the door and walked away.

On the morning of the fifth day, Logan looked at the clock. It was past eight o'clock and Cheryl wasn't sitting at the table next to him trying to grab his breakfast. Colossus walked in from his early morning workout, Logan called him over.

"Have you seen Cheryl today?" he asked, trying not to sound concerned. Piotr shook his head.

"No, the little one did not greet me this morning." Up in her room, the little one struggled out of bed, got dressed and headed to the lab. No one really paid attention to her accept to say good morning or hi. She reached the lab and smiled at Beast.

"Morning," she said.

"Good morning- oh my!" Cheryl's iris' were the color of red lightbulbs while her whites had started to turn a light pink that were slowly getting redder.

"What have you been doing," he asked, holding her chin to examine her. She pushed his hand away.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your eyes. They're bright red; even the whites are turning red." He twisted his chin to peer in closer. Her face remained unsurprised.

"Oh. Really?" She didn't try to sound convincing. Hank raised a furry blue eyebrow.

"Cheryl, what aren't you telling me?" He stood back up to his full height, towering over her and waited for some sort of explanation. She walked past him and sat down at her table.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yeah, I've heard that before." He crossed his large arms and waited. She looked at her teacher and friend then back at her work.

"How did the students act when you arrived here?" She tapped the blood samples lightly, absently. Beast swung up to his bars on the ceiling. In the good Dr. McCoy's mind, the pieces were beginning to fall into place.

"Pretty normal when you have a blue primate teaching you physics." He smiled quietly at the memories. Cheryl squinted her eyes as she looked at the clock.

"See, the thing is, Scott said that I was really starting to be a vampire and said that I couldn't last a week without drinking blood." Her shoulders began to switch between tense and relaxed. Almost as if she had to remind herself to relax. Beast remained silent, knowing where it was leading up to.

"Then what?" he asked. She continued to stare at the element clock.

"I'm proving him wrong. After all, actions speak louder than words." Her voice remained confident and factual. Beast nodded.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah." She started twiddling her thumbs. "I also have a bet going on with Kurt. Two weeks double training with Logan." Her eyes creeped up, almost innocently, to look up at him. The picture formed in his mind and he mentally slapped himself.

"Cheryl, you know you need to drink blood. It keeps your body and energy up, that same energy that you fuel your powers with. And don't think I haven't noticed you're getting slower." He let out a large sigh, contemplating why smart people could be so stupid. She smiled cherry red as usual.

"I'm totally fine, Doc. Really." She turned back to her table to begin work. Hank swung down and started rubbing his furry chin.

"You know, Elizabeth Dole said, 'What you always do before you make a decision is consult. The best public policy is made when you are listening to people who are going to be impacted. Then, once policy is determined, you call on them to help you sell it.'" He smiled down at his student, hoping that the words of wisdom would sink in. Cheryl turned around with a smirk.

"Yeah? Well Ingrid Bergman said, 'You must train your intuition - you must trust the small voice inside you which tells you exactly what to say, what to decide.'" She leaned back, her elbow resting on the table. Challenge has been made, and it must be answered. Hank let a toothy smirk peek out.

"Walter Linn said, 'It is surprising what a man can do when he has to, and how little most men will do when they don't have to.'" The smirk grew to a grin as he watched the wheel's turn in her head. It was her turn to smile as the light bulb turned on in her mind.

"'No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow.' Alice Walker." She nodded to herself, reveling in her badassery. Beast raised an eyebrow to her.

"'Without darkness nothing comes to birth, as without light nothing flowers.' May Sarton." He locked eyes with her, a sense internal battle waging on. Cheryl didn't move and didn't blink as she took another lunge. The image of them fencing with each other made her smile.

"Eleanor Roosevelt, 'People grow through experience if they meet life honestly and courageously. This is how character is built.'" Will he parry or dodge from the assault? The good doctor twisted his head, just a little, as if gauging the attack.

"However, Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, 'Judge of your natural character by what you do in your dreams.'" Parry! He parried the attack and reached to strike true. However Cheryl was ready.

"'You cannot dream yourself into a character; you must hammer and forge yourself one.' James A. Froude." A parry and retreat, waiting to see what he would do. Instead of pushing forward, he gave a toothy smile.

"'Chi Wen Tzu always thought three times before taking action. Twice would have been quite enough.'" Time seemed to stand still for a few seconds, the fight seemed to have ended, but the red-eyed warrior refused to loosen her grip. She threw her arm out pointing to her mentor accusingly.

"You did not just throw Confucius at me!" Cheryl narrowed her eyes as Dr. McCoy smirked proudly. She took a deep breath before straightening her back, poised to strike.

"Fine! 'It doesn't work to leap a twenty-foot chasm in two ten-foot jumps.' An American proverb." She leaned her head down, eyes straight ahead. The image of the "proverbial" sword swishing in the air, ready for the next attack. Beast chuckled a little before sighing.

"Anne Wilson Schaef said, 'Life is a process. We are a process. The universe is a process.'" His shoulders deflated just a little from the finishing sigh. The little surfer girl understood things took time, but she was never really one to walk first before running.

"Benjamin Franklin said, 'There never was a good knife made of bad steel.'" She wasn't giving up the duel of quotes and was sure he wasn't either. Beast raised another eyebrow, a spark of annoyance was starting to show.

"Harriet Beecher Stowe once said, 'Common sense is the knack of seeing things as they are, and doing things as they ought to be done.'" He straightened his back and crossed his large furry blue arms over his chest. Cheryl chuckled before turning in her chair and started organizing information filled papers.

"And Albert Einstein said, 'Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen.'" She turned her head back with a smirk. "Which I am." Beast furrowed his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"According to Will Rogers, 'Common sense ain't common.'" He frowned down at her tiny frame, obviously weak from malnutrition. Cheryl put down her papers and walked over to her blue mentor.

"Albert Camus said, 'In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was within me an invincible summer." Killshot! The duel was over, with the victory going to the little one. She gave a smile that he'd never seen before, one of warmth and concern.

"I'll be fine, I promise."

Beast let it go. He wouldn't be able to talk her out of it even if he tried. Cheryl went back to her work, only her hands began to shake. On schedule, she reported down to the Danger Room. When Logan finally got a look at the Vamp, he twitched. Even from the control room, he could see that her eyes weren't normal. In Logan's mind, this equaled bad. However, she didn't tell him if anything was out of the ordinary, except for the extra training. Maybe it was time to have a talk with Beast. The training session went on as usual if you didn't count that Cheryl was lagging behind. Her actions were slower and her breathing became heavier. At her break, Kurt followed her.

"Hey, what's up with you today?" Cheryl blinked a few times and smiled. Her whites had become redder.

"I'm just a little tired, that's all."

"But your eyes…" His words trailed off as Rogue bumped into them at the kitchen and stopped.

"Bloodshot, why are your eyes bloodshot?" Concern and southern bossiness rang out of her tone. Kurt joined his sister.

"That's vat I vanted to know!" He tried to copy Rogues demanding stance, but failed for the lack of hips. The Vamp sighed and told them about the pseudo bet with Scott. The siblings stood still in shock.

"You're serious?" asked Rogue. The surfer chick nodded, which only made the southern belle angrier.

"Ah'm gonna kill him! Ah'm gonna wring that pretty boy's neck."

"What I do now, cher?" Gambit leaned on the doorframe, shuffling his cards with a grin plastered on his charming face. Kurt and Cheryl raised an eyebrow and peered at the Cajun.

"You're pretty?" she asked.

"You're a boy?" he asked. Gambits ego deflated a bit as he slumped over to them.

"So then, which pretty boy do you wanna kill, cher?" His eyes connected with Rogue's and he was back to normal. Cheryl crossed her arms and laid her head down.

"Scott."

"Why would you want to kill Scott?" He leaned in further to sassy belle, his fingers playing with the deck of cards. Cheryl stayed silent, her head still resting on her arms. Rogue answered with an eyebrow twitching.

"Scott made a bet with her not to drink any blood." She suppressed a growl. Gambit's face sobered as he looked at Cheryl more closely.

"Peti'?" He gently moved hair out of her face and raise her chin up to get a better look at her. She looked up at him, her red eyes staring hazily at him.

"What? You wanna speech, slide show, tour, bra size?" The people looked at her, trying to process what she was trying to say.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"What did you say?" The three of them stared at her, confused as the day she came. She rubbed her chin absently.

"I don't know. What did I say?" She stared at them, her eyes even hazier and blank. Rogue waved it out of her mind and returned to the actual subject at hand.

"Cheryl, seriously, are you sure about this?"  
"About what?" She grinned at her frustrated friends before getting up and opening the fridge.

"Look," she said, "I know what I'm doing. I'll be fine and I'll finally be able to put Scott in his place." She smiled as she spotted the bottle of orange juice, with Logan's name on it in permanent marker. Kurt sat up in his chair.

"Vhy are you really doing this?" He peered at her, his face serious for once in the Elf's life. She looked at him with a self explaining stare.

"He told me I couldn't do it. Nobody tells me I can't do something. I say actions speak louder than words. Besides," she added, dragging out leftovers from the fridge including Logan's orange juice. "I want to make sure they see ME, not a monster." She started scarfing down the food while the others looked at each other with worried expressions. Logan walked in and stared at the group of students. Cheryl was eating like a starved man while the others looked like they were waiting for cancer results. Cheryl stopped and looked at the intimidating teacher, wondering if he noticed his orange juice in the pile of food stuffs. He kept eye contact with her bright red ones, turning redder and brighter.

"Can you continue?" he asked. She broke out into a grin.

"What are you talking about? Do I look like I'm dying? Come on let's go!" She pushed herself away from the food and brushed her hands off with a smile. Logan sighed. Yeah, she's fine, for the time being. As she exited the room, she gave her friends a very rare, warm, concerned smile as if saying, everything will be fine. I promise.

On the sixth day, once again, she didn't show up for breakfast. It was starting to feel freaky to Logan. No one coming in with a smile, still soaking wet from the cold ocean, trying to steal his "breakfast". He let out a disgruntled sigh that sounded more like a growl. He stopped his thoughts for a second to really think how the little surfer trying to steal his food became the way to start the day. Upstairs, Cheryl flopped out of bed. Her feet dragged on as she headed to the lab. Beast looked at her and cringed.

Her whites were redder, and her movements and awareness weren't as quick as they would be if she was drinking like she was supposed to! Hank McCoy wasn't a violent man, nor a very angry man, yet somehow, he was getting very agitated. He watched her perform her work with great difficulty-which would be nothing if she was drinking! He sighed, her stubbornness and pride reminded him of someone. He didn't know whether to laugh or sigh angrily. She did her work to the best of her abilities, which wasn't much, and went on to the Danger Room. Her movements were even slower, her breathing became more labored. At the end of the day, she slumped in her chair at dinner with sunglasses over her eyes. She lost color in her cheeks, and kept pushing her sunglasses up. Gambit sat down next to her and turned to say hi. However, something else caught his eye. He leaned over to her and pulled off the sunglasses. Everyone that was there, which wasn't much, stopped and looked at her eyes. The whites were gone; all that was left was a black dot in a sea of red. Gambit hesitated in his words. What do you say to a friend who's hurting herself?

"P-peti?" He stopped and looked down at the pair in his hands. She took her sunglasses and put them back into place.

"What?"

"Have you looked at yourself today?"

"What? I still have my tan, don't worry." She smiled and he tried, really tried, not to twitch.

"Peti, your eyes…" Concern clearly laced into his voice, he trailed off before he could plead with her. Her face seemed to relax as she laughed innocently.

"It's probably just a side effect of my powers. No big deal." She turned back to her plate. The rest of the school arrived and began to eat. Cheryl poked one of the broccoli, and muttered under her breath, "heh heh, berserk…" Gambit, Rogue and Kurt glared at Scott through the entire dinner.

The seventh day, the final day of both bets, Cheryl found her way to the lab. It was hard to move, hard to breathe, but she kept going. Beast looked at her and his stomach sank to into the deepest circle of Hell. She looked miserable and ready to fall over. The small girl sat down at her station and pulled out her usual work. Hank moved in and took it.

"Actually, I have something else for you." He put files in front of her, a lot of files.

"Would you process these for me?" His smile was pleasant and, hopefully, misleading to what he was doing. She looked up at him, her pupil floating there in red. She knew what he was doing. She grumbled under her breath.

"Fine!" She opened the first file and started drawing up calculations and conclusions. She stayed in her seat for three hours, working with only a pencil and calculator, and Hank was happy with this. At the end of the session, Beast smiled a toothy grin.

"Alright, thank you Cheryl. That really cut down my time on the project." He laced his large furry fingers together and smiled. She glared up at him and huffed. She left the lab with a very disgruntled expression on her face. Beast sighed and began to gather supplies in case something bad did happen. He was glad that this was the last day of this worthless nonsense.

In the Danger Room, Logan started going over the plan for the day's training when Lil Fang walked in. He stopped and lost his train of thought. Her whites were completely red, a small black dot darting around. She lost her coloring, her cheeks weren't rosy, and her lips weren't the color of ripe summer cherries. She looked like she was ready to keel over. Kurt looked at his teammate like she was on her deathbed. Was she? The gruff man strode to his student.

"Lil Fang, I think you need to sit this one out." He raised a hand to touch her shoulder but stopped. She stared at him. He couldn't really tell except the dot stopped moving.

"Why?"

"Are you capable to continue, as you are?" He slowly retracted his hand to cross them across his chest. Her eyes narrowed, making her look creepier.

"I can do it." She nodded along with her words. She could do this, she can make it. Logan nodded his approval before turning to Kurt.

"Elf, take a rest." The blue fuzzy one was about to complain when he took notice of the look in the older man's eyes.

"Yes sir." The boy left with a look over his shoulder, wondering if his friend would last the day. The student and teacher began a different routine. They practiced light self defense, combos, and hand to hand combat, but nothing too strenuous. Cheryl knew this but did not say a word. At lunch, Wolverine sat Vamp down with a water bottle and told her to wait. There was no pupil left, nothing but red. He came back with two sandwiches and placed one with her. She smiled as brightly as she could.

"So you do eat more than just toast." She gave a small giggle at her joke. He lifted an eyebrow.

"Yeah, and?"

"I don't know, I guess I'm glad." They finished their meals and continued their training. As the hours passed on, Cheryl kept on slipping in her footing and movements until the end of the day, she could hardly stand. Her brow was wet, the coloring was gone completely from her face, her breath was labored, and her legs continued to shake. If he could tell where her eyes were looking, he was sure they weren't focused.

"Cheryl?" he asked. Her eyelids moved up, which usually means that she was looking up at him.

"Yes?"

"It's time for dinner, time to get changed." He talked slowly, as if she was a child trying to understand what he was saying. She nodded.

"Right." She turned around and stared heading out of the Danger Room. Logan stood still for a moment.

"Where are you going?"

"To dinner."

"But you need to change first."  
"No I don't, liar." The last word was quieter, as if meant to be said in her mind. He twitched at the word. Liar? What did that mean? She kept walking up on her own, her steps faltering. She climbed up the stairs and forward to the dining room.

Rogue looked around the table. Cheryl wasn't at the table. She heard from Kurt what she looked like when he left and it must have gotten worse.

"Where is she?" she asked. The three boys next to her fidgeted in their own way, not answering. Gambit shuffled a deck of cards, Kurt kept wrapping his tail around the chair, and Evan tapped his silverware repeatedly. Rogue sighed again.

"Ah hope she's okay."

"Ov course she is," Kurt replied at last. "She's tougher than she looks." Gambit snorted.

"And stubborn, can' forget that." The group nodded.

"But she's going to be okay, right?" asked Evan. "I mean, she can't-"

"Don't say that!" Rouge smacked his arm. "She'll be fine." Across the table, Scott listened to the small group in fear. He screwed up. He screwed up big time. He looked over at Jean and her skin was paler. At that moment, Cheryl stumbled into the room. She was still wearing her training uniform but at that moment, she looked like she was about to croak any second. Her skin was pale, even with the tan. Her lips weren't red anymore, but fleshy and pale as well. But it was her eyes that scared everyone. They were red, nothing but red. She stumbled to her seat and plopped down. Rogue and Kurt helped put food on her plate, for fear of her dropping the plate, her hands were shaking so much. Scott looked scared, so did Jean. Logan sat down next to the Professor, 'gloom & doom' coming off of him in waves. Charles looked at his friend.

_ 'What can you tell me?'_

Logan was used to the voice popping into his head by now, so he sat there arms crossed over his chest, watching Cheryl to make sure she didn't die on the table.

_ 'Apparently, Scott bet Cheryl that she couldn't last a week without blood. Add that to the bet with the Elf of two weeks double training with me and we get this.'_

Charles's face clouded over. Next to him, Storm and Beast were less than pleased. They watched their student poke at her food with little energy. Both have dealt with prejudice and fear in their lifetimes. They didn't want that for their students. Down the table, Cheryl moved her pieces of food around and started conversing with it.

"Hello Berzerk, how are you today? I'm doing fine. Have you seen Kitty? You look really tasty with butter today…" Least to say, the group was worried about her. Across the table, Multiple, little Jamie, stopped looking at where he was cutting.

"Ow!" He sliced into his finger, blood welling up. Before anyone had a chance to fuss, the small wound stopped bleeding and scabbed over. Everyone turned to Cheryl. Her eyes were focused on the boy's finger, her hand extended out. If it was even possible, her skin grew paler, her brow began to sweat and shake visibly. She turned her head to look at Scott and grinned, as if to say 'Ha! I win, bitch!' Her arm dropped like lead on the table, shaking the objects around it with a clatter.

"Wow," she said, her voice almost hollow. "You know…I'm kinda tired. I think I'm going to go to bed…" She placed her hands on the edge of the table and pushed up. She was able to stand for a total of fifteen seconds before her legs buckled and she collapsed into her chair. Rogue reached over to her friend.

"Bloodshot?" The room erupted in shock. Charles looked over to Logan. The Canadian logger didn't need to be told. He stood up and walked over to her seat. She rolled her head back and smiled softly.

"I'm thirsty…" The smile didn't stay for long as the man kneeled by her side. He nodded and scooped her up in his arms. She seemed so light. As he left the room, he gave a last cold stare around the room. Plain to say, he didn't like anyone right now. The room was quiet when the two left. All eyes turned to the three teachers at the head of the table. Charles leaned forward and put his fingertips together.

"How did this start?" Outside, clouds began to gather and rumble. Storm set her mouth and narrowed her eyes at the students. Scott finally looked up at his teachers.

"It's my fault, Professor." He tightened his jaw, ready for anything, or so he thought. Charles sighed before leaning back again.

"Would you care to explain, Scott?" The boy lowered his eyes again, struggling with embarrassment as to what to say.

"It's just….Professor…it's just too weird!" The students around him nodded in agreement vigorously. Beast stood up.

"What? That's what this was all about?" He barred his teeth back in a snarl. Roberto stood up from his chair.

"She drinks our blood like it's nothing!" A grin started to poke out in a joking manner, but stopped at the look from across the table. Rogue slammed her hands on the table.

"'Cause it is nothin'!" The table exploded into argument before thunder boomed and lightning flashed. Storms eyes glowed with power.

"ENOUGH! Now sit down." Her eyes were narrowed at each of them across the table. The students took their seats quietly. "I am not amused," she said, her voice rumbled with anger. "I would have thought you were better than this, but I guess I was wrong." Thunder boomed overhead. Everyone turned to the Professor. He sighed heavily and straightened his back.

"I told her she would be safe to be herself without fear of judgment. The same thing I told each of you." He extended his hand out, motioning to them all. The students lowered their eyes, reflecting their own troubles of the past. Beast sighed before he stood up.

"Tell me, have any of you felt dizzy or nauseous when she took your blood?" Murmurs and whispers of "no" popped up from around the table.

"Have any of you gotten sick since she came here?" Again, murmurs popped up, louder this time, some questioning what that had to do with anything. The teachers looked at each other then back at the students. Charles wove his fingers together and looked at each of them.

"For starters, you will all be starting on double training, just like she has. Don't think I don't know about the gambling as well. You are excused for now. Rogue, Kurt, Remy, Evan, I'd like to talk to you." The four stayed behind, disgruntled about the whole ordeal. The Professor wheeled over to his students.

"You four will also be taking double training." The four exclaimed their disbelief in vigor, but Charles wouldn't hear of it.

"Yes, you didn't encourage the bet, but you didn't do anything against it either. You didn't tell one of us when it was getting worse. Now, I think we've had enough excitement for one day. You're excused." The four mutants left, heads low, worried about their friend. Up stairs, Wolverine carried Cheryl to her bed. She stopped talking and almost stopped moving. She was limp in his arms, her head propped up against his shoulder. He didn't have to worry about opening her bedroom door, it was always open. He stopped for a moment and looked at the walls, and decided that he shouldn't be that surprised. He placed her on the bed, carefully, she looked like she couldn't take that much more damage. Something caught his eye in the corner of the room, right beside the wardrobe. Logan started to chuckle at the idea. A refrigerator? Really? He turned his attention back to the girl on the bed when he heard her breathing go shallow.

"Alright Lil Fang, come on." He sat her up against the head board, making sure she was conscious. He unsheathed his claws and lifted up his other forearm. Gritting his teeth, he swiped down on his arm, severing veins and arteries. Cheryl's eyes popped open and stared at the oozing crimson as it came towards her. With the last ounce of will she could possess, she turned her head away. Logan sighed.

"Cheryl…" The muscles in her face twitched.

"No…" she managed to whispered. "I would hurt you…" The corners of her mouth tried to curl up into a smile.

"Besides," she said. "You say you're on reserve. Right?" She swallowed and closed her eyes. The rugged warrior set his jaw. Normally, if someone was on a mission to kill themselves, he wouldn't care either way. But this… this was his student, he told himself. His student. He watched his blood as it was about to drip off, his wounds already closing. He grinned.

"If you don't hurry, my blood is going to stain your bed." He grinned as the long trickle of blood ran down his arm and pooled, ready to drip off. Cheryl moved fast, faster than she had been in the past week. Her lips closed around his arm, moving up to lick the line of red off. When the gash closed up, she leaned back, her eyes hazy and unfocused. Logan looked at her eyes, they were still completely crimson. More blood. He sliced into his arm again and let her feed. Logan closed his eyes. He shouldn't be thinking this, but it just felt…so…good… No! She's a student and she's just feeding for the nourishment. That is all. This routine went on for some time, Cheryl drinking until the wound closed and Logan would slice open a vein. Cheryl opened her eyes and looked up at her teacher. Her pupil was back to normal and the whites were just a little pink. She gave a lazy smile.

"Heh heh, I'm tired…" Her eyes closed again as she fell over and fainted again onto the bed. Logan scooped her up and tucked her under the sheets and covers. He moved a chair over to the side of her bed and waited. Every once in a while, her breathing would go shallow. The gruff man would slice his vein open again and let her feed in her sleep until she settled down again. He leaned back and stared out the window. The sun was rising, the light peeking into the room. For some reason, he didn't quite know why, he started chuckling to himself.


	8. Just Awkward

**Chapter 8**

Dawn could be seen through a crack in the large curtains in Cheryl's room. The light slowly brightened the multi-colored room. Every now and again, Cheryl would gasp for air, her systems trying to recover. Hearing this, Logan got up from his chair two feet away and sliced his arm open. He stopped wincing at the pain halfway through the night. I've gotten weak, he thought. He looked at her closely again. Her lips had started to turn a deeper shade of pink and color had mostly returned to her face. He chuckled to himself again. When had he started caring so much? After the wound healed, he would return to his chair and continue the watch.

Her breathing stopped for a second, and then suddenly gasped in her sleep. Logan sprang to his feet, and slit his arm open as if on auto pilot. His blood gleamed like liquid tainted glass in the morning light before bringing it to Lil' Fang's mouth. Logan was so preoccupied he barely heard the soft hesitating knock on the door. His arm was still to the girl's lips as he growled at the opening door.

Scott Summers and Jean Grey stood in the doorway. Both looked paler than usual with their heads down. Logan could see the small shadowing under the telepath's eyes. They hadn't slept much the last night, they were too worried of what they had done, or shouldn't have done. The teacher didn't care. He was looking after one student at the moment, not babysitting the rest who should have known better.

"What do you two want," he growled, his voice low so not to wake the Vamp. The honor students looked at each other then back to the girl lying unconscious on the bed. Jean hesitated as she spoke.

"Will she…will she be alright?" She took a small step forward but stopped as Scott held her shoulder. She looked at Scott than Logan, and stepped back again. The teacher glared with a snarl pulling at his mouth.

"She was lucky enough to breathe after the last week, now what do you two WANT?" His fists were curled tightly as he tried not to lash out unintentionally at the two. They may have caused her harm but they were children in the end. Scott didn't smile as he tried to put himself between Logan and Jean.

"We just wanted to apologize to her for everything we did. Would that be okay? Logan?" He didn't want to sound threatening or move too quickly. He spent a lot of time around the man and knew when to back off. Wolverine forced his hands to relax before he answered.

"She hasn't woken up yet. Her body is trying to heal, so I suggest you leave." He pointed to the door like a teacher telling a child to go to the principal. Scott didn't change his expression as he nodded and left, leading Jean out the door. The door shut and Cheryl struggled to breathe again. The cycle continued.

Hours in the morning passed with the same slice-n-bleed routine. As people woke up, they came by to visit, and all the same response. Bobby and Sam tried to knock nonchalantly before opening the door. A snarl resounded out, making the two shut the door and run down the hall. The routine went on for several hours until Beast tapped on the door. After a minute of waiting, he opened the door, greeted by the same animalistic snarl by the protector. Beast returned the snarl with an extra side of viciousness. Logan humphed and returned to watching over the small girl. Hank went to the other side of the bed and pulled up a chair. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Beast began to look around the multi-painted/splattered/splashed room, sniffing at the air. Logan looked up at him with a look that asked what the blue man wanted now. The doctor turned his head and stared at the industrial fridge by the wardrobe. He glanced between the ruff teacher and the fridge.

"Is that…?" he finally asked, pointing a claw at the large metal door. Logan looked at the fridge himself.

"Yup." He didn't show interest, just fact on his face. Hank scrunched his chin in a small pondering approval.

"Did you look?" He raised a furry eyebrow at his associate and friend. The gruff man returned the look.

"What?"

"Did you look?"

"No, I was busy." Logan extended a hand out to the sleeping girl, an explanation to the question. The doctor looked back and forth between the other teacher and the fridge. After a few seconds of this exercise, he stood from his chair, crossed over to the industrial appliance and opened it. His stomach dropped and his throat closed as the coppery smell of gallons of blood wafted out. He looked back at his friend.

"Oh my stars and garters. She has been collecting this much? How much blood loss is there in your training sessions?" He looked back among the several jars. Names were written on labels across the jars, along with other interesting information, like the flavor and blood type as well as the "mood" someone was in when the blood was taken. The good doctor frowned at his name on a jar full of blood. What did "unknown" flavor mean? She didn't know what he tasted like or was it something random? It was something certainly to be addressed. Logan cocked an eyebrow the teacher.

"I can't teach her anything if she doesn't use her powers, and for that she needs blood. What are you doing?" He watched the doctor try to stifle a grin and snicker. The doctor tried again for a straight face.

"Nothing much, Logan, but it seems our good little Cheryl has the most…_interesting_ labeling system." In Hanks overly large clawed hands was an empty jar. Logan's face flushed when he read the label.

Flavor: ORGASM

Name: Logan

Blood Type: A-

Mood: N/A

Beast studied the labels of the many empty jars on the top shelf with an amused eye. They were all reserved for Logan and his "orgasmic" tasting blood.

"It seems you don't have emotions either. Well, any that are recognizable." He half grinned at the label, finding the "N/A" quite interesting. Logan grumbled, his cheeks still slightly flushed. In her bed, Cheryl gasped for air again. Without thinking, the teacher sliced his arm open in the blink of an eye and placed the cut to the little surfer's dry lips. Beast looked at the scene and lost his toothy smile.

"Has she been like this all night?" He dropped his arms, the jar still in his hand. Logan nodded but kept his eyes on the girl drinking away at his vein. Hank replaced the jar in the fridge, closed the door quietly, and walked back to his small chair on the other side of the bed. His muscles were tense, coiling, ready for a fight. Logan took his seat again and sat in silence for hours.

It was mid-day when the small mutant girl stirred in her coma. Her eyes opened slowly. The whites of her eyes were just a little pink and her irises a bright ink red. Her head was groggy and slow but she recognized her multicolored walls and ceiling. On the edges of her vision, her teachers hovered close.

"Cheryl?" Dr. McCoy asked. "Can you understand me?" He checked her pulse and temperature and moved his claw across eyes. Her eyes followed dutifully.

"Yes Hank, I can understand you." She shut her eyes tight so she wouldn't follow the claw. Both men heaved a sigh of relief. Logan felt especially relieved and at the same time profoundly irritable.

"Don't. Do. That. Again." His teeth grated together as he spoke each word. Beast raised an eyebrow but Cheryl didn't care. The Doctor leaned in, checking her vitals again.

"Tell me," he said, his voice curious but relatively professional. "Why did you do it?" He stared down on her not as a friend or doctor, but an adult on a child who had done something wrong. Cheryl mumbled and thought. Why had she done it? Yeah, it was a statement of pride but she should have thought better of the circumstances.

"I pricked Jean and tasted her…" She stopped and scrunched up her face, lifting a shaking arm to slap her forehead gently. Logan looked curiously at her.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow when he was answered by a giggle. Soon, Cheryl couldn't help her laughter.

"I can't believe I said that." She giggled again. The teachers stared at each other, unsure what to make of the giggles. After another minute of it, she finally stopped and looked at up at her caretakers to answer them.

"I was drunk, at least I think I was. Maybe buzzed is the word I'm looking for? A little bit at least." She almost laughed at their expressions but restrained herself and instead decided to elaborate.

"Jean tasted like good-and I do mean GOOD-French wine. I didn't think anything of it because alcohol has never affected me before. I've tried regular alcohol but my blood metabolized it too quickly. Maybe it just registers in my brain differently? What do you think?" She spoke up to Logan, her bloodshot, tired eyes staring up with fleeting awareness. The gruff teacher stared back.

"I don't know, but we'll discuss that when you're better. Are you hungry?" He didn't wait for an answer as he sliced open his arm again. The blood welled up and spilled over his tanned skin. He held it out to the surfer girl. Her red eyes widened just a little before reaching out. Her arms struggled to reach up, but she tried. She strained to reach up with her energy deprived arms, flailing her hands around to try to swim to the blood offered to her. At last Logan moved his wounded arm to her lips. She drank deeply, her eyes half closed. Logan's eyes as well started to close.

'_She feels better, that's good,' _he thought. He took a sharp breath. '_This actually feels… really good… It doesn't feel like last night. I shouldn't be thinking about this!'_ He focused on his student again as she stopped sucking at the wound. She relaxed again, the whites of her eyes a little less pink. She ran her tongue over her lips and smiled pink. It seemed to bother the teachers that her mouth wasn't back to cherry red. Cheryl looked back and forth between the two.

"Say… Do you two mind if I skip training today? My arms are still tired, and I haven't even tried the rest of my limbs." She looked around her twilight shaded walls and furrowed her brow.

"What time is it anyway?" She looked to Hank as he looked at the alarm clock by her bed.

"Is it five? I feel like it's five."

"It's two o'clock."

"Oh wow, it's early. Maybe I will be able to make it to training." Her eyes started to droop down. She blinked away the coming sleep looking up at Hank. The doctor smiled slightly.

"It's quite alright, you need the rest. Besides it's two o'clock in the afternoon."

"What?" Her eyes shot open. Beast laid a large furry hand on her forehead to calm her down.

"Don't worry about it, just get some rest. Training can wait until you're better." He moved his hand back and watched her eyes close shut to sleep. Her breathing slowed down to a smooth rhythm that could only mean sleep. Beast let out a long sigh before looking back up to Wolverine. His expression was bland, eyes staring into the distance. The gruff man didn't share his thoughts very often, and even then with very few people. Hank opened his mouth to ask the man his thoughts when they heard a soft knock at the door. Instinctively, both men turned and growled low and deep in their chests. The door opened anyway and Charles rolled in.

"How is the patient?" He didn't ask 'how is she?' He used the word deliberately, meaning he wanted to a professional opinion. Beast looked down at the sleeping girl again and began to put his thoughts in order.

"She's weak. She could hardly keep her arms up. She'll survive, she's already gaining control and her eyes are returning to their natural color. What I don't understand, is why? She appears to be recovering faster than she should, given that it took her a week of starving herself to put her into this state. Why did her body have such a reaction?" He looked at the Professor and waited for his insight. Charles Xavier always had an interesting insight into whatever was going on. It was certainly…suspicious. Charles looked at the girl with worry on his face. Thoughts raced across his face before he decided on one, then looked up at his two old friends.

"Imagine, if you will," he said. "If I started to walk again. I would have to gain muscle strength and motor control, but I would achieve it. Then I decided to go out and compete in a triathlon. The body works harder than it ever had to before. Muscles are torn, ligaments broken, the body is crippled once more. It's just lucky for us that her body has a natural inclination for survival. I imagine she won't be back to herself within the week." He wheeled the chair around to exit. Logan turned his head to the Professor.

"What's that supposed to mean, Chuck?" He was eye to eye with his old friend, his torso turned with his head. Charles stopped and looked back with a confused brow.

"What do you mean?"

"Her body's 'natural inclination for survival'? Something like this has happened before?" His tone was getting aggressive again, but not what it was before Cheryl woke up. Charles closed his eyes and sighed, then looked to see the sleeping surfer girl.

"Some things are not meant to be told by others. You of all people understand that, old friend." He turned back to the door and wheeled out. The teachers dropped the subject and continued watching over her.

Hours passed until another knock came from the bedroom door. Logan and Hank growled. The door opened anyway. Piotr stood in the lightened doorway and flipped a light switch. The teachers blinked at the new light over head.

"What time is it?" Beast asked, stretching his long arms out over his head. The young Russian walked up to the side of the bed next to Logan.

"It is dinner time downstairs. You two should eat. I will watch over the little one." He looked down at Wolverine as he said the last sentence. Logan glanced at the oldest student then back to the sleeping one.

"No thanks," he said. Beast shook his head.

"No thank you, though it was a nice offer. Go ahead and join the rest." He stretched his back and shifted in his chair. Piotr looked back to Logan.

"What would you like to eat?" he asked. Logan didn't look up at him as he answered.

"Steak. Bloody," he said, finally looking at the young man. Beast perked up at the thought of meat.

"Me too, if you don't mind bringing an extra plate. Medium rare please." He smiled a toothy grin before settling back in the spare chair. Piotr nodded and exited, closing the door quietly behind him. Cheryl didn't stir under the light in the bedroom, just continued to sleep.

Hours later, the little surfer girl was sitting up and trying to convince her doctor that she was well enough to walk around.

"I'm fine! See!" She waved her arms around over her head and in circles at her sides.

"I am ready to get back on my feet. Come on!"

"No," Dr. McCoy replied, as he grabbed her chin and assaulted her eyes with a flashlight. "Your skin is too pale and your eyes are still too red. It's bed rest for you Ms. Davis." He clicked the flashlight off and grinned big and toothy.

"Be happy that's all you need. You need more blood." He paused, a puzzled look across his eyes. "How much have you had already?" It was Cheryl's turn to look puzzled.

"I'm not sure. I was passed out most of the time." She smiled wide as Beast handed her a glass of the blood she saved up. At first, he wasn't keen on giving her blood that had been sitting for so long in jars, until she pointed out it was an industrial fridge and it was better than most facilities could own. So he let it go, along with the question on how she could get such equipment. A knock resounded from the door before it inched open to reveal a pale eye surrounded by blue fur.

"Cheryl? Can ve come in?" Kurt opened the door wider until he poked his smiling head through. The door burst open as Evan slammed the door open. In his arms was a gamecube with four controllers dangling out of his arms.

"Move Kurt. The stuff's not going to get set up by itself." Behind them, Gambit and Rogue waved to the surfer girl while carrying a decent sized tv between the two. Kurt gave a lopsided grin as he shrugged.

"Ve thought ve could visit and make you feel better, like games and solid food." He held up a platter of snack food. The small girl looked at Beast and smiled wide and brilliant. Everyone clamored in as the good doctor sighed. He knew his patient wasn't going rest for a while yet. As Spyke hooked up the system to the tv at the foot of the bed, the others sat around Cheryl and talked.

"So what happened last night?" she asked as she picked at the variety of food from cheese slices, to potato chips, to brownies, to carrot sticks. Apparently it wasn't just one person putting this together, she thought as she picked up a carrot stick. Kurt's eyes widened at the question.

"Don't you remember anything?" All four of her teammates looked at her for brief astonishment. She shrugged her weak shoulders.

"Last thing I remember is training with Logan. Which reminds me…" She looked back at the doctor slouching in his chair. "Where did he go?" Beast looked up at her.

"He went to shower. Don't worry, he'll be back soon. He wouldn't want to waste his steak." Sitting by the empty chair was a platter with the largest piece of meat Cheryl had seen on this side of the Atlantic, not to mention the Pacific, served to one person. Did he kill the animal himself, she wondered. Or did he just stare at it until it keeled over in fright? Rogue touched her arm to get her attention back.

"You walked into the dining hall in your training clothes. You were acting like you were drunk or somethin'. You were talkin' to your food and you had us really worried."

"Then," Kurt interrupted. "Jamie cut his finger and you healed it no problem. But then…" He hesitated as he looked back at his slightly disgruntled sister.

"You passed out in your chair. Logan went and carried you off to bed. Don't you remember any of it?" Rogue knit her brow together as her friend just shrugged. Beast lifted up his head with a smile.

"You didn't tell her your punishment." He smiled big and toothy at the students. Cheryl's eyes widened to bulge out of her skull.

"You guys got in trouble? How much trouble?" She bounced her gaze off of her friends. Spyke answered from behind the tv.

"We got double training with Logan."

"Why did you guys get in trouble?"

"Because," Rogue explained. "We didn't go to the teachers when you were starving yourself. But because we didn't make a bet we didn't get the worst of it." She cocked a grin at the thought. Spyke stood back up and leaned against the tv.

"Everyone else has that plus survival training with Logan and cleaning the whole house including lawn work. Now, are we ready to play or what?" They played rock-paper-scissors for the controllers. It was a tough battle of thirty minutes but at last Cheryl won over Kurt.

"Oh, man!" Kurt exclaimed as he cradled his jaw in palm. Cheryl patted his back.

"It's okay, poof man. Not all of us are skilled in the ancient art of battling with hand signals." She chuckled when Kurt stuck out his tongue in response. It was just a few minutes later that Logan walked in again, freshly showered and in a change of clothes. He looked over the scene.

Cheryl sat with her legs crossed on the bed with Nightcrawler lying down beside her. Rogue sat on the edge of the bed with her legs dangling off while Spyke and Gambit sat on the floor a few feet from the tv. Beast sat in his corner looking back at him with a raised eyebrow. The gruff man shrugged his muscled shoulders and walked to his chair and, more importantly, his steak. He picked up the fork and steak knife and carved away at the chunk of meat. The five teenagers stared at the screen as four of them raced, battled, and puzzled their way through the stack of games they brought. Kurt sighed heavily as he watched the screen and switched his tail in the air behind him. Cheryl peered over at him and back at the controller in her hand.

"I'll hand over the controller, if you give me some blood." She dangled the controller over his head. He quickly shoved up his sleeve and offered up his wrist, as did the other people playing. The short girl took a moment to process the flavors being presented. The great chocolaty taste of Rogue, confusing but satisfying pineapple of Kurt, healthy celery of Evan, or… She looked at Gambit's wrist. She'd never tasted him before. However, by the smell of him, she wouldn't want to right now.

"Gambit, do you drink a lot?" The room stilled for a second as four friends, and two teachers, waited for his answer. The Cajun chuckled a little nervously.

"Of course not, _peti_. Why would you ask?" He eyed the two teachers watching him with interest and raised eyebrows. Cheryl searched around her for a needle for her snack.

"Because, you smell like alcohol. I don't mean 'wine cooler' alcohol, more like 'whiskey' alcohol. Ah ha!" She found a needle and poked Kurt and Rogue. The red threads moved slowly and sluggish through the air. Cheryl frowned at it. It was more difficult than before to form threads that moved. She concentrated further as she wound them together into a single ball. Sweat began to glisten on her forehead as the ball finally finished taking shape. She took a deep breath, finally having fresh blood and moved it to her lips.

Knock, Knock. In the moment it took for her to wonder who was behind the door, she lost concentration on her food, letting it splash down her front and on to her bed.

"Aw, come on! Not fair!" She gave another aggressive sigh before waving at the door.

"Come in," she called, still pouting at the spilled blood soaking into her bed and clothes. The door peaked open and a pair of red sunglasses peaked through. The room stared in interest as Cyclops opened the door and stepped in with a sheepish look on his young face.

"Hey, Cheryl." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I just wanted to come by and apologize for the betting thing." Cheryl waved an arm at him.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine, see?" Her eyes were still plastered to the blood as it began to recede and well up again into a small watery form. Everyone was watching as Scott took another step forward.

"No, it wasn't okay," he said. "You got hurt because I didn't want to understand. I didn't think that you could end up like this when I made that bet." He hung his head down. The guy was rolling himself in guilt since the previous night, and it was making the surfer girl nauseous.

"Okay, please stop. I'm fine, I'm alive. Besides, it was good to know how long I could last anyway. It was bound to happen sooner or later." Her brow started to sweat again as the blob of blood floated up. Her eyes were bright red as she slurped up the liquid like it was jell-o. Scott's eyebrows went up and his skin paled as he looked on, but he managed to not look green or about to throw up. Logan grinned as he cut another piece of steak, put it between his teeth and started to chew. The gruff man almost laughed as the boy grew whiter than possible. Cheryl turned to Scott with a smile. Her color was better than before, a slight rosiness returned to her tanned skin.

"See, I'm fine." She smiled widely as the golden student backed away to the door.

"Okay, well, I just wanted to say sorry and to make sure you were okay. We'll see you at breakfast, okay?" He closed the door behind him as he stepped out. The group blinked at the closed door before Kurt picked up the forth controller and commenced the game. They played for hours, Beast handing Cheryl glasses of stored blood every time the glass was empty. Logan watched from his bedside chair until everyone left for bed, including the two teachers. Cheryl assured them that she was well enough to feed herself if she woke up.

"Don't say 'if', Lil' Fang," said Logan, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just don't." With that said, Logan left to his own bed. Cheryl didn't go to breakfast the next day; instead she remained in bed for days at the behest of her doctor. Everyone came around to apologize, then left nervously back out the door. Whenever she asked for a taste though, the students only hesitated before shrugging and giving over an arm. Most of them blanched, others averted their eyes, but all of them did it regardless. She managed to get a snow cone from Bobby, which made the surfer girl very happy.

For three days, Cheryl bounced on the bed begging to do something physical. Anything, even run around the room, but Beast said she was to stay in bed until he said so. She pouted and begged some more. One time while playing Super Smash Bros. on the GameCube, Cheryl asked Kurt if he could teleport her out of her room. He said he couldn't, orders from Beast. The girl promptly called him a wuss.

On the third day of bed rest, only Gambit and Spyke came to her room. Rogue and Nightcrawler were part of the group sent on a mission. Apparently a group who called themselves The Brotherhood was causing trouble again. It happened a lot, they explained.

"I used ta be one," Gambit said. "So did Rogue." Cheryl gaped at him.

"Rogue used to be against the school? Seriously? Did she have a head injury or something?"

"No," replied Spyke. "Mystique messed with her head. She didn't know who to trust. Then she found out the woman lied to her about everything. Then the crazy bitch, well maybe not crazy, but still a bitch, turned out to be Kurt's mom!" The room fell silent as Cheryl started at them.

"Did I just stumble into a soap opera? Or is it just like a Big Brother show?" No one had an answer, or would answer. They played games for a long while before the ruckus started. Beast was seated at his usual chair by the bed reading when Kitty rushed up through the floor next to him, panting from lack of breath.

"Beast! We need you in Med Bay. Something's wrong with Rogue." She grabbed on to him as he dropped his book and they both sank into the floor. Cheryl, Gambit, and Evan ran out of the bedroom door in search of answers. No one was visible so they dashed off to the lower levels. As they reached for the elevator, the door opened and Logan stepped through.

"Woah, where do you think you three are going?" He blocked the elevator door with his bulk so no one could sneak past him. Everyone burst out all at once.

"We need to see Rogue."

"Is she hurt?"

"Is she okay?"

"Is she dying?"

"What's going on?"

Logan waved his hands at them.

"Hold it, hold it! Rogue is fine, she's alive and it's already crowded enough down there so you don't need to be there. And you," he pointed at Cheryl, "are supposed to be in bed, so come on." He motioned with his arms to back them up. The surfer girl huffed.

"Isn't it rude to point?" she muttered as she turned around. Logan raised an eyebrow.

"What did you say?"

"Hmm?" Cheryl gave him large innocent eyes.

"You said something."

"I don't know what you mean," she said and turned again to the way they came. Logan herded the friends back to the multicolor bedroom. The three of them went back to playing games but with less enthusiasm. Eventually, Gambit and Spyke made their way down to the dinner table, apologizing for leaving her by herself and Logan. She just shrugged.

"It's okay, I'm going to be stuck here for now anyway. Just be sure to come back with some news from the table, okay?" She waved at them as the door closed. Next to her, Logan snapped open the newspaper. With looking after Cheryl for days, he hadn't had the chance to look at the paper, and it had started to build up.

"What no toast?" Cheryl asked. The paper folded down as Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Nope, not today. Maybe tomorrow." The paper snapped up again. Cheryl pursed her lips.

"Are you going to eat anything?" she asked. The paper shuddered as a page was turned.

"Not right now, 'Lil Fang." The silence stretched on, or as long as Cheryl could stand the silence. She started to hum, then bounce in place, then started to dance in place while bouncing and humming to herself until, finally, Logan folded down the newspaper and stared at her. She stopped and smiled sweetly at him.

"Yeeesss?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice full of exhaustion and exasperation.

"I'm bored and therefore entertaining myself," she replied. She stopped for a second and peered at him. He was tired, dark half moons under his eyes that were slowly fading away as they healed over.

"You've been watching over me for days now," she said quietly. "And now you're watching over Rogue. You need to eat and sleep." Her face was full of concern when Logan chuckled lowly in response.

"No thanks, though I would appreciate a steak right about now. I've gone longer without sleep, it won't kill me."

"That's usually what all insomniacs say before, you know, they die from exhaustion." She chewed on her red lower lip. "You could always sleep with me." Her eyes widened as Logan dropped the paper and stared at her.

"What did you say?"

"You could sleep with me, here in this bed, so you can look after me while getting some shut eye without killing yourself. I'm not going to have sex with you 'cause, no offence, you're cute but not the right time." She grinned cherry lips at him, humor glinting in her eyes. Logan chuckled.

"Really now?"

"Well, almost dying because I refused to step down from the challenge; which is a lot like you, from what I hear. Hank was talking to me while you were out eating and showering. You like taking risks a lot, no matter what the consequences to yourself." She looked straight at him. "Has it changed much since you became a teacher?"

"No," he sighed. "It's only declined some. I don't have as much…fun…as I used to." He leaned back in the chair, the newspaper hanging down in his hands. He was tired. He was hungry. He really wanted a beer. They talked the rest of the night, about his pride, about her so called "foolishness". She didn't see a difference between the two, but whatever. He wouldn't talk about what happened to Rogue. She tried several different segues to bring it naturally into discussion, but he wouldn't budge. The man was impervious to conversation traps.

The next day, Cheryl still didn't know anything about Rogue besides that she was alive. When she tried to get up and sneak off, Beast was there to keep her in bed to rest.

"It's not fair!" she bellowed. "Shouldn't you be looking after Rogue?" She raised an eyebrow in question. The doctor merely shrugged and fixed another cup of blood for her.

"I don't have to worry about her trying to sneak out of her room. She listens to her doctor." With that said, he returned to his book and chuckled every now and again.

Another day passed, and Cheryl was still not permitted to leave her room, let alone her bed. She was able to convince Beast to give her a check up at last. If she passed, she could leave and check on Rogue. Hank looked at her eyes, her coloring, her blood pressure, her heart rate, her temperature… She sighed inwardly. This was taking FOREVER! She was healthy, her tan glowed again, even from the lack of sun for a few days. Her whites were clear, and her iris's weren't screaming fire-engine red anymore. She was fine. It was a few more minutes before she started fidgeting and Beast stood up straight.

"Alright," he sighed. "You're alright to move around, just not too much physical activity, alright?" He sighed again as he realized she wasn't listening to him, but dressed and out the door by the time he finished talking to him. She speed walked down the hall to Rogue and Kitty's room. She heard the other students talking about Rogue as they passed by her door. Something was wrong with her powers, or something went wrong when she used her powers. No one was sure what to think of it. Well, Cheryl Davis was going to find out what was going on with her friend. She reached the door and knocked.

"Rogue?" No one answered. Kitty must be somewhere else, probably the entertainment room. Cheryl knocked again. No answer. Well, maybe she was sleeping, she could come back later to check on her, but she went through all the trouble of getting out of that psycadelic multi-colored room to see her. She could just take a peek and see how much damage was done. Yeah, that sounded better to her. The surfer girl eased the door open until it was wide enough to slip through, then she looked at her friend's bed and stopped. Rogue was asleep, floating several feet above her bed. Cheryl blinked a few times.

"Well shit," she said. "This is new."


	9. Higgs Field?

**Chapter 9**

Rogue turned over in her sleep, letting her arm hang down in the empty air. Her fingers lightly touched the comforter on the bed. Cheryl stayed still in the doorway. To wake her up, or not to wake her up, that is the question. While she was deciding, the floating girl murmured in her sleep and cracked open an eye.

"Cheryl? What are you doing out of bed?"

"I could say the same thing," Cheryl replied under her breath.

"What?" Rogue rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve to clean them.

"Uh…" How was she going to bring this up to her? "Rogue, would you happen to know what Higgs field is?"

"No," Rogue replied with a yawn. "Why?"

"Because it's supposed to be this field that controls gravity."

"And?"

"Well, you're disturbing the theory."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, you're floating above your bed."

"What?" With her eyes fully opened, the southern belle noticed that Cheryl was shorter than usual. Then she looked down. With a scream, Rogue fell back on to the bed. Cheryl walked over to the bed with a quickness.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"What do you think, Bloodshot?" She looked at her friend and sighed. "Sorry, it's been a stressful few days." She sat up and leaned against the headboard. She was pale and clammy, dark circles under the eyes that kept shifting to the shadows in the room. She looked back at the little surfer girl and smiled.

"I think I'm going crazy here."

"Why?" Cheryl asked. "I think you were already there before. What happened when you were out there?" She waited as her friend sighed and let her head fall back.

"I think I did something very wrong. You know I absorb people's powers and abilities, but I also take their memories, their…minds." She stopped and looked at her friend, but she remained silent and waited. Rogue sighed and brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them. "There was trouble at the airport, Mystique and the Brotherhood were trying to take something. When we got there, there was another woman dressed up, I'd never seen her before. A man came up to me and said she was the one taking things, causing trouble. I thought it was Mystique, but when I touched her… Something when wrong. I couldn't let go and everything just flooded in. The Professor has helped me work through it, well most of it. I'm just waiting for her powers to fade, and hopefully her mind will go into the background, like the rest." Her face dropped to her knees and gripped her legs tighter. Cheryl pursed her lips in thought.

"Well, it seems you still have them. After two days?" Rogue nodded, then lifted her face.

"You think I'll have them forever?" They stared at each other for a minute, Rogue's face filling with horror when Cheryl broke out in a grin.

"You know what that means?" She jumped up and spread her arms wide.

"You get to learn to fly! Seriously, how cool is that? Not to mention what else you can do. I wonder if you're like Peter Pan." She sat in front of Rogue again. "Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts." She squinted at the southern girl, trying to will her to think those happy thoughts. Rogue gave a short burst of laughter.

"You want me to believe in fairies too?" She grinned. The strawberry blonde shrugged.

"Whatever floats it for ya."

"We're not interrupting anything, are we?" In the door was Dr. McCoy and Professor Xavier, looking happy to see both health cases alive and seeming well. Cheryl turned to them and crossed her arms.

"Did you know she could fly?" The men looked at each other, then to Rogue. Charles moved next to the bed.

"The abilities still haven't faded away?"

"No," Rogue replied, some of the cheer evaporating with the change of subject. Hank walked over with a small bag of medical equipment. He started checking over Rogue's vitals like he did Cheryl's just minutes before. When the exam was done, Hank gave the seal of approval.

"Signs of anxiety taking its toll, but nothing more." Charles nodded to him before smiling up at Rogue.

"I just want to take another look at you, Rogue, and see if I can help you any further." He touched her forehead lightly. Rogue closed her eyes and began to sweat. After a few minutes, the Professor withdrew.

"I'm afraid you're going to have her with you for longer than anticipated, maybe even the rest of your life. We still don't know the full nature of your powers, or how they might react to different people. For now, I've put up a wall between you and her. I don't know how long it will last, but hopefully long enough to figure something better out." He patted her hand. Rogue didn't look at rest.

"So, is she dead?" Her eyes looked large as she asked the question. Charles smiled slightly.

"No, she's not dead. She's in a coma. I've taken the liberty of paying for her medical care." He kept a slight smile as she turned the rest of her in his direction.

"What was her name?" she asked.

"Carol Danvers. She lived…an interesting life." He patted her hand again. "Don't worry, We'll find a way to help her. Now we just need to figure out how to control these new aspects." He turned to Cheryl. She sat on the corner of the bed looking at the two of them converse with a blank expression.

"You said she could fly?" he asked. Cheryl nodded.

"I saw her floating above her bed when I got here." She kept an eye on her friend when the southern girl stretched and got to her feet. She then proceeded to put her feet together, spread her arms wide and shut her eyes. The three others looked at her and waited a heartbeat, before Cheryl started laughing. Rogue grunted.

"Why doesn't this thing work when I want it to! Maybe I just need a head start." She took a step over to the balcony doors before Cheryl jumped up and hugged her.

"Stop trying to fly away, at least not by way of balcony. We don't know what's going to happen." Rogue stopped struggling and stood still.

"you mean there's more of this? What if I start melting things with a thought? I can't live like that!" She began to grind her teeth in anger. She always was the weird one, now it was something new! Charles linked his fingers together and peered at the girls. Then an idea came to him and he smiled.

"Maybe it's time for you to have a different kind of training. I believe there's room in Cheryl's training group. Logan won't mind one more." Charles smiled at the thought of Logan's reaction. Oh well, it would be good for the girls to train together after they've become such good friends. Cheryl smiled brightly at the idea, then stopped and sniffed at Rogue. The other mutant raised an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked, her tone waiting for something bad to happen. The surfer chick just shrugged.

"I don't know, you just smell different."

"Smell different?"

"Yeah, it's you, but there's something added to it, sweeter and more tart. I don't know. Oh wait!" She let go of Rogue and dug for a needle. "I wonder what you taste like. Do you taste any different?" She held up the needle, silently asking for permission to take a sample of delicious red liquid. Rogue growled.

"Go ahead." The needle poked at the skin, a small red thread slowly winding out of the pale skin. Cheryl grinned and daintily slurped up the blood. She stopped and savored the flavor.

"MMMmmm! Raspberry chocolate!" She closed her eyes to indulge further in the taste. "Not just any raspberry chocolate either. Fresh raspberries processed for full flavor with minimal seeds. Very delicious!" She mulled over the taste for a few more moments before noticing the strange look on Rogue's face.

"What?" Her face dropped the smile as soon as she noticed her friend trying hard not to smile, or laugh. Finally, Rogue couldn't take it, she burst out in laughter.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just your face," she managed before laughing again. Charles relaxed at the sound of that laughter. The two of them would be fine, all they needed was time.

"Why don't you two take the day off? I need to set things up with Logan so you can start tomorrow. I am also going to take you off your double training while you get used to these new abilities. Once you're comfortable again, you'll go right back to it. Now go on, several people are waiting to see you." With a smile, he left the room with Hank in tow. The girls shrugged and decided to go out of the rooms. They started by wandering the halls. Cheryl sighed happily.

"It's so great to be out of that small room. It was so annoying! Ugg!" She stretched her arms wide over her head. Rogue hugged her arms and stared straight ahead. She jolted out of it when Cheryl stepped in front of her.

"What's up?" asked the little surfer girl. Rogue faltered at first then stood up straighter.

"The woman, Carol Danvers, she was a real bitch." She waited for a response, but only got a confused look. "When she touched me and I absorbed her memories, I saw things. Some were very confusing, but others were just aweful. She drank, did horrible things. Heh, she would have gotten along with Mystique if she hadn't decided to turn good, for a little while anyway." They continued their walk down the main staircase.

The sun shone brightly through the high windows of the foyer. A perfect summer day for New England. Sounds of laughter, shouting, and explosions could be heard outside through the double doors. Cheryl ran down the stairs.

"Hurry! I want to be outside while the sun is still up. Oh God! I can surf again!" When she reached the bottom, she hopped on the balls of her feet as Rogue sauntered down the steps. As they turned to the large double doors to leave, Gambit stepped out of the shadowed hall.

"Cher! Peti!" He jogged over to them and put his arms around Rogue. "I'm so glad you're okay." He continued to hug her as she looked to Cheryl on what was going on. The strawberry blonde grinned and wiggled her eyebrows at her. The southern girl thought for a second before blushing a beautiful red.

"Let go of me, you swamp rat!" She made a weak attempt to push the cajan away. Gambit loosened but didn't let go.

"What's the matter, Cher? No kiss for Gambit?" He grinned and leaned in a fraction, before Rogue's face flared brilliant red. She swung her arm out hitting him, and sending him flying into the wall a few feet away. The girls stood still shocked. The boy groaned and rubbed his head.

"What did you hit me with? A bus?" He looked up at the girl through squinting eyes. She stared down at her hands with wonder and abject fear. The hallway remained silent until Cheryl started to laugh. The other two looked at her curiously. She stopped her laughing and wiped the tears away.

"What? It's funny. Things are going to be even more interesting between you two." She walked over to Gambit and patted his head. "I hope you're tough enough if you keep flirting with her." She helped the boy get to his feet. He grinned charm at her.

"Peti, I can survive anything to get a kiss from the lovely Rogue." He threw a wink at Rogue for good measure. The girl gained her composure and quirked her eyebrow.

"Are you sure you want to risk life and limb for that kind of kiss?"

"Ain't that the best kind, cher?" They looked at each other for a minute; Gambit grinning and Rogue slightly annoyed if not intrigued. Cheryl stuck her hand between them and waved.

"Hey, you know what? I'm going to play some games. Maybe even beat Kurt once, if that's possible. I swear, for a guy who lived in Germany poverty, the guy is a genius on a controller." She turned around and walked down the hall mumbling to herself. Rogue jogged after her, and Gambit jogged after Rogue. They found Kurt in the entertainment room playing a game. He was happy to see his sister and one of his best friends up and alive. They played games till dinner time, Kurt proud of his endless victories. He didn't feel weird about Rogue's new powers. Apparently, super strength and flight were really, really cool. The rest of the students were very glad, in their own ways, that the two of them were okay. They chatted through dinner, catching up on the things that happened while the two were "bed resting". Evan sat to Rogue's left and sulked a little when he heard about the new powers.

"What's wrong?" she asked, afraid of what his answer would be.

"You're gonna be harder to beat at Frisbee Tag now." At the mention of the game, Cheryl's eyes widened and glared with excitement. The four other players groaned inwardly at the her enthusiasm. They were all going to get their butts kicked if they didn't practice more. The students at the dining table ate their food with gusto. Double training was harder than it sounded like. Many asked Cheryl how she managed to do it for two weeks, and then gaped at her when she told them she played outside after the training. The small group left the dinner table and wonders what to do. Before they could leave the room, Storm called Cheryl over. They exchanged words before the teacher handed over a small package attached to what looked like a small parachute. Cheryl's face opened up in wonderful excitement. They talked a little more before Cheryl walked away from a very confused Ororo.

"What was that about?" Rogue pointed at the small package that was currently being torn into.

"My uncle dropped this off for me. My last one just about quit on me." The package was open and inside the packed box was what looked like military dog tags, but they were smaller, thicker, and what looked like an iridescent square in the middle. She took them out, looped them over her head, and tucked them into her shirt. Everyone stared at her for a second, and she stared back.

"What?"

"What were those?" Even pointed at her chest where the tags hopefully hung. She shrugged.

"Something to help when I'm out surfing. Hey, what are we going to do now? I don't want to go to bed yet. I've been in bed for DAYS!" She started walking down the hallway towards the front of the mansion. The rest walked after her. Evan opened his mouth but Rogue shook her head. The surfer girl wasn't going to go into it. As they passed by the entertainment room, Kurt got an idea. He poofed out and appeared in front of Cheryl. She startled, stopped in her tracks.

"Poofman, stop poofing in front of me." She let out a sigh and saw something n his hands. He held it up with a wide grin.

"I got the last season of Avatar! We can see the end at last." His smile was wide and expecting. Cheryl looked at him with a blank stare.

"Wasn't that a movie?" The hall remained quiet as Nightcrawler tried to get past the horror of that statement. Cheryl cocked her head to the side in confusion.

"What?" She raised an eyebrow when Kurt put his hand on her shoulder.

"We need to fix this." They watched the complete first season of Avatar: The Last Airbender before they all turned to bed. Cheryl was impressed with the whole idea of the series. Martial arts being able to control the elements was just amazing. She recognized the styles with approval. They complemented the elements pretty well. The last thing she wondered before she fell asleep was if other mutants used their powers like that.

She woke up early, something she wasn't able to do for the last week. She didn't mind that she only had a few hours of sleep. She was full of energy. Why? Because, sh was going surfing. The wind called to her blood, the surf cried her name. She was meant to be with her first love… It was a wonderful, satisfying affair. She was out in the water for hours before she returned to the mansion. Water was still dripping from her strawberry blonde hair when she walked in the kitchen. Logan sat at the kitchen table reading the morning paper. She sighed with pleasure. Back to the routine and another chance to steal his breakfast. She walked past him to the fridge and got a glass of juice before sitting down next to him. He didn't look over the paper or even acknowledge her.

"Did you have fun surfing?" he asked as her hand started creeping for the breakfast plate. Today, the golden brown prize had peanut butter slathered generously across the pieces. A golden landscape of victory to be hers-if she could get past its keeper.

"Of course I did," she replied. Her hand hovered a moment before moving forward. Logan turned the page quietly.

"No trouble getting back into things?"

"Nope." Her hand was very close to the plate now. In a few moments, the plate would be hers! But then what? Obviously the man could take her down if she ran with the plate. Was a few slices of toast worth being tackled by the big, gruff man sitting next to her? She tried to ignore the blush spreading up her face. Absolutely yes. She reached the last couple of inches for the plate, only to have her hand flicked away.

"Don't touch those." The paper didn't even rustle from the movement.

"And didn't Hank tell you to lay off the physical exercise for a while?"

"No," she pouted in response. "I'm not supposed to use my powers to exertion. That being the reason I'm not training with him this morning, and what the hell was that?" She flailed her flicked hand at him. The paper dropped in half.

"What was what?"

"What was that? Flicking my hand away? You hit me harder the last time I tried to take your breakfast. Actually I succeeded last time. Is it because I've been on bed rest?" She put her fists on her hips in defiance. In a soaked through over-sized shirt, she looked adorable. However, Logan wasn't about to agree that the thought crossed his mind.

"Is that what you really think? Then you won't mind today's lesson plan." He gave a half grin as he picked up his coveted cup of coffee. Cheryl stood up with the air of defiance still trying to cling to her.

"I can take anything you can throw. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go take a shower." Fast as lightning, she grabbed only a single piece of golden brown toast before bolting from the room, drops of water flinging at Logan as a mere afterthought. After she left the room, the teacher dried himself off and continued with the paper and coffee, slightly smiling to himself.

Hours later, Nightcrawler, Rogue, and Vamp were in the Danger Room training. Because of Rogue's new abilities, she might work well with Vamp and Nightcrawler on how to control her powers. As well, she could be their first line of defense while Vamp was around healing everyone. It seemed like a good idea, then Cheryl got a good look at Rogue's training outfit. Her eyes went wide and she turned to Logan like a snake, her finger pointing at him.

"Ah-ha!" she exclaimed. "I knew I didn't have to wear that stupid wetsuit outfit with yellow heels. I knew it!" She started to do her known victory dance while Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. Rogue raised an eyebrow.

"What's this all about?" she asked Kurt. He chuckled at the sight.

"Oh, Vamp has been having this argument with Logan about the uniforms the new students get for training. If some others can have a different uniform, why can't she?" He stopped to laugh at the next ridiculous move she did in her dance. When she stopped, she swaggered over to her comrades with a satisfied smile on her face.

"I knew I didn't have to wear that uniform. Have you seen those heels? They are so impractical, and they want us to train in them? I don't think so. I'm amazed no one has more sprained or broken ankles." Logan gave up on the argument so he just told them where to start. Rogue stopped at the starting point with a contemplating look on her face.

"Jean doesn't have to worry about her feet."

"Why?" Cheryl asked.

"Because, she can fly."

"What?" the girl missed the cue and got another tongue lashing from Logan. They trained like this for a week; Rogue would practice her flight and strength in accordance with getting Nightcrawler and Vamp from point A to point B. It was getting along very nicely. When the week was over, and the three were toweling down, Rogue stopped and stared at Vamp.

"What are you thinking about, Bloodshot?" She patted her neck dry as Cheryl grinned.

"Well," she said, as she tried to suppress the smile. "I was just thinking that I'm feeling all better, and so are you, so maybe we could go for some Frisbee tag before dinner." She looked over at Kurt who was looking between the two.

"Oh man! First Vamp is already good at the game, and now Rogue has super powers. The guys are gonna lose." He sighed heavily and hung his head down. Cheryl patted his shoulder.

"It's okay. Really. I won't hurt you too badly." They left the Danger Room, got dressed, and left to find the other two players. Gambit was all for a game of Frisbee tag, anything to get a chance of being next to Rogue. Evan, however, was not thrilled.

"She has super strength! How are you going to confine that to ten feet?"

"Ah won't use it!" she yelled back. She was still sore about the new abilities, especially when she could break a cup in her grip without realizing it. Cheryl shrugged.

"She said she won't use it, so she won't. She'll only use her flight in ten feet, okay?" She waited two seconds before heading out. The group hadn't been playing while the surfer chick was down for the count. So they were definitely worried. Kurt retrieved the Frisbees as before and they tracked into the forest.

The game went better than expected. Spyke didn't break any this time, but Gambit accidentally charged one and it blew up. Rogue crushed one in her hand when she caught it but she used her new found strength to her advantage later. As Gambit was about to throw, Rogue pushed on a tree and uprooted it. It crashed near him and he was so startled, he dropped the Frisbee. At the end of the game, Cheryl still won, even for being so tired afterward. They joined the household for dinner and continued watching Avatar. They were on the third season, with Cheryl thoroughly hooked. When Katara learned "bloodbending" everyone looked at Cheryl.

"No," she said calmly. "I cannot 'bloodbend'."

"Why not?" Kurt slumped his shoulders in disappointment. The tanned vampire sat up straighter.

"It doesn't work like that! To move the blood in a person's body, not remove it, I would need to stop the bloodflow to move the body. Bloodflow is important. It keeps people alive." They debated the issue until it was time for bed. Neither side conceded defeat so it would be up for tomorrow.

Cheryl woke up early in the morning and got ready for her illustrious affair. Mel was prepped with the perfectly made surfboard commissioned for Cheryl by her Uncle Danny. The strawberry blonde slung her duffle bag into the back with the board and clicked the security system off before sitting down. The drive was peaceful, the sky brightening from the deep blue to bright blue; clouds sprinkled among the open sky. Then Mel stopped suddenly. No breaking down, the engine still worked, still reved, but wouldn't work. With a very confused frown, Cheryl turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. She looked around the vehicle, nothing in its path or under it. Then she noticed that Mel's tires were a few inches above the road.

"What the hell?"

"I thought it would get your attention." Floating in the air up the road was a man dressed in purple and red with a cape, boots and a funny looking helmet. Was this guy serious? And Cheryl thought the training suit was bad. The funny man floated over to her and extended a hand.

"I am Magneto, Master of Magnetism and I have come to offer you the chance to join me." He stayed silent as Cheryl stared at him.

"I hope that's not a marriage proposal," she said at last. "I don't think I would like what you're into." She grinned cherry red. Magneto was not amused by the comment.

"Are you mocking me?" His voice rumbled on the quiet road. Cheryl still smiled.

"No, if I wanted to mock you I would go 'mock, mock, mock!' But I'm not. I'm a student of Professor Xavier and I don't like changing teams. I'm just the red cross, I'm more of a pacifist. Not to mention, what is up with that bucket on your head. I can't imagine it being very effective." She hooked her hands on her shorts and grinned wider. Magneto flexed his hands before extending one at Mellony. CRUNCH! Cheryl stopped smiling and screamed.

"Mellony!" She ran her hands over the intricate paint detail in a panic. Her eyes flashed to the floating figure and transformed into Angry Cheryl. Angry Cheryl was not a very easy person to deal with, especially about things she cared about.

"That had better not been the shell and you had better fix that!" She started marching at him when he turned to give her his full attention.

"You just called yourself the red cross. Does that mean you're prepared to heal your enemies as well?"

"Yeah, sure," she replied after a minute through her teeth. "You have to understand that I'll heal my team first, but I'll heal both sides. The only time is when the person is pure evil, but I've never met such a person. Now fix my Mellony!" She glared up at the floating figure in front of her. No one messed with her precious Mellony. No one! The man nodded his head.

"Very well." He extended his arm again. Metal screeched again from under the jeep. He nodded again, the work was done.

"We will meet again, Cheryl Davis." He started to float away when the small girl thought of something.

"Wait!" she called. Magneto looked back at her. She absently rubbed the jeep's hood.

"Do you have any tips on flying?" She watched with dismay as he didn't answer but fly away again. She set her shoulders back and ground her teeth. She set off a slew of words in a different language that would make even Logan blush in shock. She stomped back to Mel and hugged the hood.

"It's okay Mel. The bad helmet man is gone." She patted the hood again before driving off to her crashing waves and foaming sea.


	10. Lonely Toast

**Chapter 10**

Logan sat down at the table with a fresh cup of coffee, snapped open the paper, and sighed. Coffee was ready, bread was in the toaster, the runts were still in bed so it was still quiet in the mansion... It was a beautiful morning. The paper was full of the same garbage; people killing people, some politician passing a bill for his own benefits, and a few "cat saved from a tree" fluff pieces designed to make the readers feel better about the other stories. It was a mess, and on top of it all, the so-called "mutant issue" was a powder keg waiting to be lit. With the American Public as fickle as it was, there was bound to be a bad reaction from at least half the country. Nothing much was said about the rest of the world; people had too many of their own problems to go looking for more.

He put the paper down and fetched his toast. As the gruff teacher sat down again, he looked at the clock. He absently tapped his plate. Cheryl would be back soon, ready for some breakfast. The door opened to reveal a disgruntled Cheryl, soaked to the bone again. She squished and sploshed to the table and slouched in grumpy silence. Logan looked at the water dripping onto the floor.

"How are you still wet after the drive from the beach? Don't car seats absorb water?" He flicked back to his paper and sipped his coffee. He was enjoying the double training sessions with the students; finally being able to train them like he wanted to was almost more satisfying than he could have expected. He couldn't remember what it was like being their age, but he was sure he did more work than they ever did. He started going over the plans he had for the day when he heard a tiny crunching. His paper collapsed. Cheryl sulked in her chair munching on a buttered piece of toast.

"How did you do that?" He folded the rest of the paper and put it away. Cheryl raised an eyebrow at him.

"I was hungry?"

"No. You grabbed the toast without me noticing." He took a sip of coffee without taking his eyes off her. She smiled and shrugged.

"I can't answer for you. You were more worried about your coffee than your toast. Does that mean you concede defeat?" She was grinning now, but still had worry in her burgundy eyes. He moved the plate further from her.

"Yeah, like that would ever happen. What's eatin' ya, Lil' Fang?" He drew his brows together as she slumped further into her chair.

"Mellony got hurt by a stupid helmet guy while we were going to the coast. I don't know if he fixed her all the way so-"

"Wait," the gruff man interrupted. "Helmet guy? Did you get in an accident? Are you okay?"

"I wasn't in an accident. Mellony was stopped by a man flying. He was a mutant, like us. His powers are what stopped Mel! It's like controlling magnets or something like that." She wiggled her fingers in an mock magic gesture, before connecting and separating her fingers. Logan sat silent for a moment as his brow became more furrowed in dark understanding.

"Was his name Magneto," he stated more than asked, his fist crunching the paper on the table. Cheryl scrunched her chin in thought before nodding slowly.

"Yeah, I think that's who he said he was. He was all floaty and trying to get me to join him and stuff." Her thoughts were interrupted by Wolverine jumping up, the chair clattering to the linoleum flooring.

"You talked to Magneto? Did he hurt you?" he snarled.

"What? No! He messed up Mellony but that was it. I mean, he tried to intimidate me- but he didn't do anything." She held her hands up, afraid the surprisingly angry teacher was going to blow a vessel in his brain. Instead, he took a couple of deep breaths before speaking again.

"We need to go talk to Charles. Now." He set the chair right then exited the room. Cheryl looked around the kitchen a moment before spotting the golden toast left unattended, unbuttered. Must be serious. She knew she was supposed to follow, but that slice of toast and the one she'd already snitched (and eaten) was going to get lonely all by itself. She couldn't do that to the poor toast. She snatched the piece up, swatched some butter on it, then headed for Professor Xavier's study. She smiled a little, munching on the piece and feeling better already.

She caught up with Logan a couple of doors down from the study, half of the piece of toast in her hand, the rest hanging out of her mouth. The gruff man looked over at her and blinked at the sight of his breakfast in her tiny clutches.

"Is that my toast?" he growled. She shrugged her shoulders and bit off a piece hanging from her mouth.

"You forfeited it. I wasn't going to leave a fresh, delicious, beautifully toasted piece of golden toast alone to get cold and go to waste." She crunched into the buttery slice again and smiled.

"Mmmm," she murmured. "Lonely toast." She continued to munch on the same piece of toast until they reached the study doors. Logan proceeded to open the door without knocking.

"Chuck, we have a problem." Charles was at his desk working with papers that could only be important to the school. He turned to the two of them casually, the same passive smile present.

"Yes, so you say. Magneto decided to have a talk with you, Cheryl?" He linked his fingers together and listened. Cheryl told how her morning went, from driving to the beach, stopped by Magneto, and agreeing to be the medic on the field for all parties. Logan's brow furrowed deeper and deeper until it was in danger of become a trench. She was the X-Men's medic, not the Brotherhood's. It was simple logic. Charles would have to see it the same way... But the professor just nodded his head at Cheryl's recount and smiled.

"I think this could be a good thing."

"It is?" Logan and Cheryl asked together, both sounding surprised- although for entirely different reasons.

"Yes," Charles replied. "If we can show The Brotherhood that we are willing to help them, we might be able to change their minds. You did the right thing, Cheryl. Now, I believe it's time for you to get back to your training regiment. Well done." With this blessing, the two left the study to head for the lower levels. She still had a couple of bites of toast left, which she savored the whole way down. The teacher looked over at her as they entered the elevator.

"Lonely toast?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied happily. "Lonely toast was lonely." She exited and headed for Hank's lab. He told her to take it slow when she got back, so she was only doing a minimum effort in her finer skills. It was boring. She walked through the doors and spotted the familiar clock on the wall, and smiled. Everything was getting back to normal. Well, as normal as normal could be for a school full of mutants.

Training for the next couple of days turned out to be very exhausting for all of the students. They were happy that the double training was almost over while Rogue, Kurt, and Vamp were just beginning theirs. They had to cut the session short the first day, due to the amount of destruction laid out by Rogue. The basic repairs alone weren't going to be done until at least the next day. This was fine because Beast had a new suit and gloves for Rogue to try. Because of her new powers, she was able to take more damage while her battle gear was not.

"Try this," the doctor explained. "It's a special synthetic material I designed. It's almost as tough as you, but with your new strength level it should still be more than flexible enough for training use." He explained a few of the more nifty features before he was thanked and the group left for the remainder of the day. A few of the boys were waiting in the changing room for their turn to train. That was, until they saw the Danger Room almost reduced to rubble. When a joke started about Rogue being the real Cannonball, it was quieted by the senior students.

Days passed and things came back to order. Cheryl was bouncing back with a vengeance, her control better than before and making huge strides in her training. Rogue was also learning control, although it wasn't easy on the Danger Room, or the repair crews. Kurt was getting the timing down to a science. With things getting back to normal, Gambit was added to the rotation. Cheryl was the medic and Kurt was her transportation across the battlefield. Rogue was added as protection for her, but she couldn't be everywhere at once, so Gambit was added for the long range of his powers and as extra muscle.

Everything finally settled, until it was announced that a camping trip was being arranged, a final event before the coming school year. It was open to all the students, all those that wished to participate could go... If, that is, they thought they could handle a weekend alone in the woods with Logan. Cheryl, having heard stories about Logan's famous survival training in the wilderness, was first in line and couldn't wait. She almost bounced off the walls from excitement. For two weeks, the students waited for the upcoming camping trip. The double training was over with; talks about school starting were creeping up, but there was peace at the Institute for Gifted Youngsters (relatively speaking, at least.)

Finally, the day arrived for the trip and everyone bustled about in the early hours of the pre-dawn morning. The luggage soon began to pile up in front of the Blackbird. Storm and Logan made final checks on the jet. Beast checked his supplies, and checked out Cheryl as well as Rogue.

"Are you sure you two are okay to go? This IS an optional trip, after all." He checked their heart rates and vitals to make sure, making some rapid mental calculations to account for the surfer girl's unusual blood pressure. They both just chuckled a little.

"We're fine, Beast," Rogue flexed her new muscles. "As fit as an ox."

"Yeah, what she said." Cheryl gave a broad smile of fabricated innocence. The teacher looked at the two of them before deciding to pack some extra supplies, for just in case. They headed back to their rooms for last minute checks and Vamp had a present for Rogue.

"Here," she said handing a long sleeved shirt to her. It was dark green and smooth to the touch.

"It's Under Armor. It'll keep you cool and won't snag on clothes and such. You won't have to worry about touching anyone else on the trip." She gave a broad smile to her friend before packing a few more things in her pockets as Rogue changed. The shirt fit her well, like her gloves. She turned to thank the surfer girl only to find her standing inches from her with a thick belt.

"What's that?"

"You'll need this for the camping trip. And everyday life!" With a smile, Cheryl buckled the utility belt around her friend's thin waist. "There, all set. We should be going." Cheryl pulled Rogue out toward the Blackbird as she looked at her new belt.

The southern belle poked at her gift. She recognised the pocket knife and a rope dangling off one end. The other things were in closed pouches, and she would have to check them later. She looked up as they reached the Blackbird and she heard Kurt call out, "I didn't know you vere into the Batman comics."

"There were comics?" Cheryl asked, then stopped herself short. "Wait, that wasn't the point! This is Rogue's utility belt of awesome and preparedness!" Kurt pondered a moment before opening his big mouth one more time.

"So, you're Bat Girl then?"

"No," Rogue interjected. "Ah am neither of those. Now just shut up and get on the damn plane!" Final words spoken, she stomped upwards into the cabin, the rest following behind her.

Once the Blackbird was packed and the class all aboard, it was all systems go for the camping trip. For the students' safety and peace of mind, all of the school's wilderness outings took place high up in the mountain forests, days away from the nearest town. For a camping trip this size, Logan and Storm jointly took the reigns of the class. Logan would be in front, guiding the students through the forest, while Storm watched from the back... with the huge med kit Beast had packed.

Chatter filled the jet like rainfall, almost calming to the ears. Cheryl stared out the window at the flow of tree tops passing below the jet. The weather was pleasant for camping, looked like clear skies for the moment. Decent conditions for sleeping outside. She squirmed in her seat from excitement. It had been a while since she went camping, and she hoped it wouldn't disappoint.

Finally the Blackbird started to descend towards a clearing in the trees. It almost looked like a camping ground except for being right in the middle of a forest. As soon as the landing gear hit the ground, people were pulling off their seatbelts and running for the exit. Evergreens spread out around them, like living walls closing them in. The fun was interrupted temporarily when Storm called for attention.

"Alright everyone, we have a little time before we have to be underway, so relax for a bit. We have a long hike ahead of us." In no time, the students doubled their efforts to lounge about and play in the sun. Cheryl waited and bathed in the bright sunlight. So far, it was more dull than she thought it would be. After all, Logan was known as a survivalist and loved to teach it. So why weren't they trekking through the forest at that moment? Gambit played cards with Rogue next to her. Kurt and Evan played volleyball with Sam and Bobby. Everyone carried on with their activities until Logan whistled for attention, the sound piercing their sun-dazed minds.

"Hey listen up! Whatever you got in your pockets, in your hands, in your purses or fanny packs, take a good look because those will be your supplies for the rest of this trip." The teenagers stopped in shock at the announcement. Many dropped items like water bottles and gaming devices. The volleyball game stopped as well when the ball bounced off of Sam's skull. It took a moment for the message to seep through to all the students. Then the uproar started. There was lot of shouting, even some powers flaring, until the teacher put his foot down.

"Shut up! This has been approved by the Professor, in case anyone was thinking that it wasn't. A little extra training with a side of punishment to make it better." The students grumbled and checked their pockets again. Bobby flopped down on the grass and crossed his arms.

"There is no way we're going to survive out here! I'm going to stay here until I can get into the Blackbird again."

"We're just a bunch of city kids," Evan exclaimed. "How are we going to do this?" Again, the uproar grew until it was interrupted again, this time by Storm.

"We are not going out into the wilderness unprepared. We will still be able to call the Blackbird if things get too dangerous." She turned back to Logan as he grumbled and fished out a cigar. He chomped the end off and spit it into the undergrowth nearby.

"We are here," he said calmly around the cigar, lighting it up. "to build more as a team and to build on talents that don't rely on your powers. Now let's move out. We have a specific camping spot," Logan said, a smug note coming into his voice, "and we have to get there in time to MAKE camp before sundown." The students looked to each other. They were obviously thinking the same thing: do we follow in these crazy conditions, or try to find a way into the locked up Blackbird? Cheryl started bouncing on the balls of her feet from excitement.

"Can we get going now? Please?" She looked around her peers, whose amazed eyes stared back at her questioningly.

"What?" she asked. "It'll be fun!" Her smile grew into an almost terrifying grin. The only one as eager as Logan about the trip was still being watched over because of her health. Scott stepped forward and stood next to her.

"If Cheryl is okay, so are we. Come on, guys, if she's game then we should be too." The group mulled and mumbled until Rogue threw her hands up in irritation.

"For God's sake people, let's just go. We'll have a better shot out there than if we stay here trying to get back in the jet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We have Mr. Survival himself leading us in and back." She went and stood by her friend with her arms crossed over her stomach.

Sure enough, no one could argue with her logic and began hiking through the trees. They hiked through brush both thick and thin, climbed up and down slopes, and forded streams. Logan stayed in the lead, following his instincts and nose; with the students trailing behind in a line ending with Ororo. Cheryl almost seemed to skip along in her cheery manner, singing in various languages. Kurt stopped for a moment to listen when she changed to German.

"Wundabar! I didn't know you spoke German!"

"Yeah, my uncle was always taking me to the mountains when I was younger, so I learned." She continued on with the song, Kurt joining in with her. Further ahead of them, Sunspot sped up to meet the pace of their guide. Listening to the jolly tunes from behind, he gave a laugh.

"Alright! I'm ready for this!" He started to match paces with Wolverine, when the gruff teacher turned his eye to the young mutant and growled.

"Get back with the rest of the group. Now." Logan didn't wait for a response as he turned forward and picked up the pace. Roberto hung his shoulders as the rest of the class marched by him. As Cheryl passed him, she patted him on the shoulder.

"It's okay, he's just being his usual grumpy self."

"Yeah," Raine chimed in, "but when is he ever not grumpy?" A collective giggle ran through the line. Storm merely smiled while "Mr. Survival" chose to ignore it, or he just didn't pay attention.

"Don't worry," the surfer girl said confidently. "I'll help you get through this." She stopped abruptly as she bumped into Roberto's back. The Brazilian teenager turned around to look her in the eye.

"I don't need anyone's help, especially a girl." Eyebrows rose, heads turned in disbelief. Rogue lunged forward, getting in really close.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Excuse me?"

"You was in deep wit Logan, mon ami, but now you're _fucked_..."

"Shut up, Gambit."

"What? What I say?"

"Guys, guys, guys," Cheryl interrupted. "I've got this." She looked Roberto in the eye.

"You think you don't need my help?"

"Of course," came the obvious response.

"How much you wanna bet you'll be asking for help before the night is over?" The group stood still. Another bet? So soon after the last two disasters? Roberto's temper flared as he pushed back.

"One week of chore duty." He held his hand out for the accord. Cheryl took it and grinned, almost a baring of teeth.

"Deal."

"Hey," Storm called a few steps behind them. "Is there a problem here?"

"No," the two responded, eyes still trained on the other. The group continued on its path through the forest. The day passed around them, light traveling through the leaves. It was near dusk when they started to hear running water like wooden chimes. Logan cracked a smile for the first time during the trip.

"Almost there, 'bout time too." The site was a small pond connected to a stream. The evergreens huddled close to the water to the south. The shore widened as it wound it's way to the north for a decent sized beach; a strip of soft grass followed after it before more thick evergreens closed it off. In the fading light of day, it looked like a camping paradise.

Many of the students had walked the day in sandals and flip-flops. They trudged down the hill in a giant mass, heading straight for the water to soak aching feet. The two teachers headed for the small grassy patch. They conversed in hushed tones, occasionally motioning to the staggering students. As everyone started to relax, they began to realize that they did not have tents, sleeping bags or any of the other useful items for camping. Having to sleep on the ground was not a pleasant idea, but where else could they sleep? Cheryl sighed as she started to walk to the dense wooded area beyond the grass.

"Hey, Sam, Raine, Kurt, can you start helping me find some dry wood? While we're getting that, can someone start collecting some of the dead leaves? We're going to need them for some bed padding. Thanks Gambit." The students began to mull about, looking for other things to make themselves comfortable during this hellish excursion. Cheryl moved among them, showing them little tricks to make things easier. She handed Jean a UV pen to purify some of the water for drinking. The camping site started to take form, everything coming together as the sun began to set. As the fire got started, Kurt tapped Cheryl on the shoulder. She had loaned him a filtered water bottle before they got on the Jet.

"Cheryl," he whined as he shook the bottle upside down. "It'z not verking properly."

"Give it here." She took it and opened it up. She cocked an eyebrow, then dumped the contents out.

"Why is there soda in here? You can't put this kind of stuff in a _filtered_ water bottle. Well, the filter is ruined, but you still have to carry it. No soda next time, Poof Man." Kurt went off to sulk under one of the trees as Cheryl walked to the stream. They had to look for food now, but where? A movement caught her eye in the stream, then another. There were fish in the water!

"Awesome!" In a half an hour, she had fish cooking on sticks over the live fire. She had collected enough to feed others beside herself, while the rest of dinner was provided by Logan. The beds were being made, a few of the students seemed squeamish about sleeping on the ground, but there wasn't much else of a choice available. Storm took a moment to take Logan aside to talk to him.

"I want to go back to the Blackbird and get some of the students their better shoes. There's only so much we can put them through before it becomes torture."

"Don't bother," he replied, biting off the end of cigar and spitting it off into the dark undergrowth. "We should be getting tougher on them instead."

"Absolutely not!" The wind seemed to pick up a little, making the flames of the fire dance. Logan bit down at the end of his cigar.

"Well, you're no fun." He left her to join the ring around the fire. He watched Cheryl as she went around, telling people how to make their beds with foliage; what to be aware of in the wilderness; what to avoid when looking for food and shelter. Roberto sulked on the other side of the circle, having chosen to lose his bet for the sake of food and shelter. Finally, it had come time to retire for the evening. They all had to get up early, as Logan wanted them to start hiking again shortly after dawn. As the leader of the "camping trip", Logan would take first watch, the rest of the shifts decided afterwards.

A few hours before dawn, Cheryl opened her eyes to the branches above her. She looked to her side to see Rogue huddled in close to herself. The strawberry blonde rolled away quietly, lifting her head up to see embers still alight. She stood, the forest floor rustling under her weight, passing quietly by the other students. She saw Spyke, the last to take watch, had fallen asleep slumped against a tree trunk. She gave a chuckle as she took a seat on the floor by the embers, a few feet away from Logan. Taking another look around the sleeping faces, she noticed Storm was gone.

"Where's Storm?" Cheryl asked, taking another look around the camp site. The water looked like black ink beyond the low light. Everything was still, except for the snoring from a few of the students, especially Kurt. Logan moved a stick with slices, of what looked like potato, away from the fire.

"She went to get a few things from the Blackbird, about the time he finally conked out." He jabbed a thumb over at the teenager a few feet away from them. "She should be back soon." They stayed in silence for a few more moments, until Cheryl started eyeing the potato slices.

"Can I wake the rest of them up?" She watched the gruff man take a bite out of the food almost as if contemplating the idea.

"No." He laid down the stick again to move the embers around. She eyed the food with a piqued eyebrow. In one fell swoop, she snatched up the food and started munching into it. Logan sat still for a moment, realizing that his guard was down long enough for the small teenager to take his food.

"Did you really have to do that?" he asked, picking up another of the potato-like-root. She slowed her chewing to answer him, looking disapprovingly at the food she had rightfully stolen.

"Yes. Yes, I did, but it's not the same as toast. Not as...gratifying, I guess." She smiled brightly when she noted one side of his mouth twitched, just a little. Moments of silence passed once again, Kurt's snoring possibly being overshadowed by Sam's but it was too close to tell.

"So," Wolverine interjected. "How did you learn your survival techniques?"

"Oh, that would be my Uncle Danny," she replied with pride. Logan nodded. He had read up on her after their first encounter. Danny Davis was a professional surfer and world racer. While the teacher could believe the man passing on his skills because it was his profession, but survival skills when there is nothing else to rely on?

"Why did he?" He saw her face relax as she stared off into space, taking the stroll down memory lane. He unsheathed a claw to make slices.

"We were always going places. He taught me how to hunt with a spear and endurance when we were in Africa."

"Africa? What were you doing there?" The slices were punctured with another clean stick and moved to the embers.

"Making surfboards," she replied with a chuckle. "I was getting close to marrying age for the tribe we were staying with, so they tried to set me up with one of the men. Instead, my uncle got them to initiate me in as they would a male."

"Is that so," he replied slyly, disbelief creeping its way into his deep voice.

"Yeah, I even have the tattoo to prove it!" The conversation stopped as the teacher processed this new information.

"You have a tattoo?" he asked. "Where do you have a tattoo?" He almost smiled at the way she turned coy with her answer.

"I'm not telling you that! Besides, it hurt like a bitch to get it."

"Traditional way? Made with needles dipped in ink and a hammer?"

"Yeah…"

"You're right," he said with a smile. "It does hurt like a bitch." He flipped the food slices over as the surfer girl turned the words over in her head.

"So...do you have tattoos?" she asked almost cautiously. The teacher finished his second batch of sliced food, then turned and stared straight at her.

"I'm not telling you," he repeated back with a crooked grin. Cheryl let out a burst of laughter before clamping a hand over her mouth, remembering everyone was still asleep. The snoring chorus didn't miss a beat. She took another look around her, the sky was starting to show signs of dawn. The stars shined brighter before disappearing one by one as the sun began to show itself. When she turned back to the teacher, she realized that this was the first time they talked to each other as people instead of teacher and student. It was nice for once, to talk to someone again who knew what they were doing.

"My uncle saw survival as a means of making himself better." She looked at the tree tops, shadowed with a changing backdrop. "He used the same principle to teach me."

"_Now, Cheryl, remember-survival is important to everyone. It's in our genes, in our blood. Heh, so to speak." Uncle Danny ruffled her short blonde hair. At fifteen years old, she was old enough to carry enough responsibility to join him on his challenging runs. She just needed to learn a few of the harsher trials. They had traveled to the northwestern redwoods for camping. Now, it was time for the challenge. He explained it as surviving for two days as she trekked through the forest to the next point on their map. She would have to make it there with her own wits and tricks._

"_If I don't see you there, I will come looking for you."_

"_I know you will, Uncle." She checked her pockets again. Pocket knife, paracord bracelet, flint, everything seemed in order. She just wished she had shoes instead of her flip flops._

"_Let's get some sleep, there's a long way to go tomorrow."_

Her feet were sore for days after that. While she loved her flip-flops, she learned it was better to have proper footwear when traveling through the wilderness terrain. A strong gust moved across the water and through the trees. Storm had returned, with gifts for the hurting teenagers. Cheryl shook her head and chuckled to herself. Having someone to look after you, even when you don't make the best of choices was nice. Logan finished the last of his breakfast, dusting the crumbs from his perfectly black shirt. The man was only covered in dirt and grim when he wanted to be, and this was not one of those days.

"You're uncle sounds like a good man," he said as he got to his feet.

"How did you learn survival anyway?" she asked. The teacher dusted his worn jeans off before facing her with a signature raised eyebrow. She gave a shrug to the unsaid question.

"It's more about instincts, Lil' Fang. The part of us that keeps us alive." He nodded to Storm as he started to wake up the students, one kick at a time.

"What were you two talking about?" Storm asked, summoning a small rain cloud to douse the dying embers.

"Just some survival tips," Cheryl responded. The sun started to filter in through the tree trunks, beams of gold dodging through the forest. The surfer girl grinned broadly at the new day. This was going to be a very interesting trip.


End file.
